


Sweet Affairs

by Peacockery



Category: Cuphead (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Cartoon Physics, Drama, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Love Triangles, Misunderstandings All Over The Place, Romance, Slight Magic Carnival, Slight Smut References Later, cartoon violence, wacky hijinks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-02-14 04:41:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 58,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13000080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peacockery/pseuds/Peacockery
Summary: When it came to real estate and business, a little competition makes things a bit sour.At least, that's what she thought.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was just an idea that popped up into my head after getting into the community, and this ship is pretty under the rader despite a lot of fans depicting the two in a Tom and Jerry relationship.
> 
> There will be more coming soon! And things will get a lot more heavy and sentimental.

She hated everything he stood for.

The esteemed Baroness Von Bon Bon was a lady who wore her armor on a sour note and ruled over her candied people with an iron fist. It was a joke among many along the Inkwell Isles that she had been born sweet as toffee and gradually had been stripped down to a bitter, jagged center over the years, considering how well she often kept company.

Candy was serious business, and business meant money. It took a lot to run her luxurious grounds and she knew quite well that visitors flocked from all over to tour her famous chocolate pond and taffy gardens. Everything needed to look perfect, smell perfect and above all, taste so divinely that one would feel foolish for not visiting sooner.

Perhaps, long ago, she had been more soothed and gentle, before a handsome devil came along one day and made her an offer too wonderful to be true. 

_A kingdom of sweetness, for a sweet gal like yourself!_ His voice rang through her head. Once upon a time, she had been but a confectioner’s daughter along the bay of the second Isle. There were many old memories of looking out the window and sighing blissfully at the new fairgrounds being put up, just down the way...she had always hoped to one day sell her own sweets and chocolates there. But, times could be tough for anyone scraping by for a few coins. Times changed, as did tastes. And what the humble folk here began to taste was the sweet temptation of the circus.

Popcorn! Funnel cakes and cotton candy too! Sweet and salty bundles of grease washed down with fountain sodas and fresh lemonade under a canopy of colorful lights. Truffles and fancy macarons were put aside for another time to make room for cheap thrills inside fattening snacks. It truly had bothered her as she watched business slowly dwindle into near stagnation, and the carnival of hotshot games and exotic wonders died in her fantasy.

It was the night that she first saw Beppi the Clown that she, her father’s little sweet Bon Bon, began to think upon the devil’s offer.

At some point in her life, she decided she had loved the charming antics of clowns. One look at the carnival’s costumed owner shattered that idea completely. There were points of respect to go to a fella who could paint his face and look the part, but he didn’t seem to be playing with a full hand (if one caught her drift). Bon Bon had swallowed her notions for one night, strolling along with her hair done up like a party hat to pair a flowing summer dress; looking the part was key to fitting in, after all. She ghosted along the rows of innocent looking games and food stands, scrutinizing every little detail. So many nights looking out at the tents and rides, stretching up so high she swore the rollercoaster alone could seat the moon...it truly was as dreamy as her dreams recalled.

She might have been a tad too harsh, but this was the cult grounds that had drawn her family’s loyal customers away. As she perused the various vendors and their wares, she took the time to sample each. Buttered corn, battered sausages, candied fruit...the people may have been onto something. By the time she reached the fifth stand, her pockets were already empty. It was a fair stopping point, if she wasn’t already so entranced by the sounds of machinery squealing the starts of new rounds, among the resonating laughter of fair goers and the flashing strobes of signs outside of tents and gimmicky presentations.

Bon Bon found herself stepping in awe once again, like a tiny doe toeing through a grove full of fireflies. Everything just felt like she was dancing in a fantasy land...she hadn’t realized she had been handed a balloon until she felt something tugging at her hand from a few feet above it.

She walked with her new inanimate friend towards the bay side of the grounds, walking along the pier as she listened to a group of singers crooning out a jazzy little tune. Beyond them was a juggler catching random objects tossed to him from his little crowd, whooping and laughing along with his fans while performing an underhanded toss of a potted cactus from between his legs. 

She paused to watch for a few seconds, smiling lightly. That looked pretty difficult...what talent! She jostled from her thoughts when the balloon in her hand tugged again, so she resumed her walking while paying little mind to it.

It seemed to tug against her grip whenever she passed by a ride or attraction, as if fighting against its string to be set free. What Bon Bon found odd was that there wasn’t any strong winds that night. Huffing, she glanced upwards.

The balloon was grinning down at her.

It drifted free of her hand as she screamed, never once dropping the wide arc in its pearly smile. She caught sight of a red and blue bodysuit with fully functional limbs but no head, watching in horror as it hopped up gleefully to catch the hovering orb by its leash. Yanking it down onto a frilly collar, the sentient clothing snipped the string free with scissored fingers, and jolted in surprise a moment later. Doing a little twist to screw itself on, the smile eventually turned around, sporting now a gleeful pair of golden eyes and an even wilder pair of eyebrows on its white and red face.

Bon Bon’s terror quickly flashed to embarrassed anger. She had seen much in this strange and peppy world, but that was an image she never let herself forget. Rubbing her hands in disgust against the stomach of her dress, she unloaded a colorful dictionary of words onto the man she had just been holding (and fingering, she shuddered) only minutes ago.

What infuriated her more was how he just stood there and listened to it all, rocking on red and blue shoes while giggling at every curse in the book as if they were jokes on their own. He had his hands locked behind his back, but unhooked them to swing forward. One was holding the small top hat now being placed on his head, while the other offered a scoop of cake with a waffle cone hat, all decorated with lines of sprinkles and chocolate drizzles. It even came with a little bow.

Red in the cheeks, Bon Bon crossed her arms and turned her back to him. No weasel of a guy was going to make a hussy out of her, no sir. She didn’t even know who the hell he was.

Fortunately he filled her in, gesturing to a huge sign of his face and the park name while placing a hand on his chest. With that introduction over, he grabbed her by the wrist and began to lead her to the rollercoaster he had been trying to point out earlier. A clear favorite, it seemed.

Beppi, what a stupid name. But not as stupid as his head was going to look after she was done with it. He paused from her angered swats, letting go to rub the back of his head and hop back in a gleeful dance as she swung her fists more.

It eventually hit her, halfway through a jab towards his middle. Halting, Bon Bon looked up at the sign again. This was the guy. And hence, the birth of her undying fury. She swung again, harder and faster as he continued to backstep, playful laughter turning more timid. He glanced around at the crowd beginning to form, and immediately went into plan B of garnishing attention. Beppi jabbed his thumb into his mouth, blowing hard to bulge his head once again into its balloon shape. Pinching it off at the neck, he floated up far beyond the strings of lights to burst into a volley of dazzling fireworks. The display was spectacular enough to enrapture the masses, allowing the rest of his body to dance away through the jumble as Bon Bon stood there, dumbfounded.

Her angered scowl returned fast.

No weasel of a guy... she swore by it.

-*-

It wasn’t difficult to find the devil that night, for he always had that uncanny wisdom of popping up whenever he was thought about. He had been waiting when she had stormed back, arms crossed and tail curling languidly as he leaned against the side of her father’s candy shop. It had been an easy deal to strike- a kingdom of sweetness and fame in exchange for a teeny tiny part of herself. She had the burning image of the clown on her mind as she accepted the deal.

That was only a few years ago, for here she was now in her own little candied world. The gingerbread palace and sugar grounds had popped up overnight, changing her patch of the Isles for good. And, like any strange happenings in the neighborhood, everyone just accepted the unconventional with a smile and a visit.

Now she was a powerful matriarch, lording over her territory while sneering at the cheerful carnival just down the road. Her sweet little minions answered her beck and call, tending to the property and keeping smart to stay out of her way as the years passed and her hatred of the popular clown still resided. She had riches beyond her dreams, handed to her from the devil’s generosity and his will to make the people come like flies to honey...and yet that horrid, awful clown was still her biggest competition the older they became.

She could not have that.

The first time Beppi pranced onto her property, he couldn’t even giggle out his intent before her licorice hounds were snapping at his rear. The attempts after that ended with rock sugar spears tearing his suit, a dip into the lava cake moat, his ass yet again attacked by flames from her hot cinnamon soldiers and many other colorful methods of torture she had decided to instill.

How dare he come to mock her.

In the most recent visit, she had managed to peek out onto the balcony as one of her brigadiers fired candy dots down onto him. She crossed her arms on the edge and rested her chin atop them, finding a satisfied sense of glee for what she was about to witness. Oh, did the little carny yip and squeal as he danced between the shattering rounds, but he did so with a gleeful smile. Everything seemed to be a game to him, where nobody else but himself seemed to matter. It made her blood boil hotter than anything else.

He managed to hop onto one of the gummy lily pads in the chocolate pond, striking a pose and removing his hat to bow in her direction; she bristled faster than he could hum out a little tune. 

The marksman managed to shoo him off of her damned property once more, but was promptly halted once she saw that something had been dropped onto the floating green jelly- one of her lollipop butlers presented a cake in the shape of a clown head to her, which was promptly crushed between her fingers.

Funny enough, the batter in it had been red and blue swirls.

Not so funny was that she had a hard time sleeping after that.

He didn’t scare her. If anything, she rolled her eyes at his antics. He must have seen something snap in her since the day she caught him on the lily pads, for the previous attempts at visiting her had been relayed by her servants long after he had been chased off the property like the sneaky little fox that he was. The moment their gazes met, he seemed to come alive; not even the imminent pain of the incoming candy bullets had stopped him from hopping to attention and putting on a little show for her. Thinking back on it, Bon Bon clutched her peppermint axe.

She began to wonder if he was allergic to mint.

A mockery was all that it was. The giggly doofus must have realized her penchant for violence after studying her arsenal during his visits. That must be it. That must have been why he was so excited to see her reaction when she finally came out to see his dedication. And he was damned lucky that she didn’t hop down the frosted siding of her palace to cleave his painted schmuck face right off his shoulders for pulling such a stunt. Him, thinking he could mock royalty!

She sold her soul to make her dreams come true. She delighted herself in the fantasy that she had more fans and visitors to her and her family’s dream space than sad little Beppi did at his dinky little carnival. But every night she proved herself wrong; she hated that she was leaving dents in her balcony railing every time she stomped out under the smiling moon to glare at the faint rumbles of roller coasters and squealing in the distance.

He must be spying on her, learning her secrets. How else could his own territory still be pulling in the numbers? Was he learning the secrets of her heritage to boost his food sales? Was he copying the routines of her guards to put on mocking little plays for his dimwitted patrons?

Bon Bon hated pedantics. But her world was perfect now, and it needed to stay that way so the rats keep out.

From that day onwards, she never put the lilypad incident aside. When her schedules allowed, she joined the patrols to keep an eye out for the nuisance, and ordered that all entryways to her castle grounds be under tight surveillance.

It was foolproof to her. It was also a game to Beppi.

She had nearly bent herself over backwards to find every hole to patch up in her defences, and every time he crept his way on through. One night there was a balloon stuck in her ice cream freezer, and the next her father (bless his old soul) nearly keeled over upon finding a jack in the box in the garbage chute. What came next was another order of guarding every doorway leading into the palace, but she had forgotten about the windows.

That was when she had grown fairly used to sleeping with her axe by her side. If only she hadn’t dropped it when blindly fumbling for the edge of her blankets so she could get up to close her bedroom window. The scream she put off was enough to wake the chocolate soldier’s down in the palace dungeon, though they were blessed in not hearing her snorts of anger as she smashed yet another clown cake.

-*-

She had been called mad by her servants when the time came to up the ante in punishing the creep skulking around her castle grounds. The orders were simple- pay it forward and maybe her little friend could admit defeat.

In reality, she wanted him to burn with all of the things he mocked her for and to choke on his narcissism while he was at it. When the news came back later that day of a successful trashing of the tent he was found to be living in, she was quite satisfied with the results. Good. Let the brat realize what he had done.

Strangely enough...it worked. For the first time in weeks, she hadn’t seen nor heard any signs of the pranking jester, and his carnival still ran the same every night. The same cheery songs with the same happy lights. And that damned rollercoaster, tempting the crowds to release every last bellow they can keep down.

The bliss was wonderful. She sipped her hot chocolates in the parlor and played gumball-croquet with her visitors. And her family’s recipe for bon bons never tasted any sweeter.

The high was nice...for about a week. That was when the paranoia began to set back in again.

What was he plotting?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions or comments? Check out my blog:  
> Socks-on-parade.tumblr.com
> 
> Also, check out my new Discord server!
> 
> https://discord.gg/vZkuund


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Too invested in this now to hold back, so here is chapter two already. I am curious for any ideas for upcoming slapstick or events while I get to work on chapter three. :>
> 
> This ship is one heck of a rollercoaster.

One week had passed since the beginning of her suspicions, and she hated incessantly watching the carnival in the distance. Tonight, it was all that was on Bon Bon’s mind as she stood on her balcony. The place looked virtually unchanged...did her troops honest to god murder the poor sap and she wasn’t made aware? There could have been cherry spritzer to celebrate.

Her eyes were set in a tired stare, scowling heavily as she tapped her gloved fingers against the glazed railing. Her requests had been simple enough, so perhaps the goons were just that dedicated to be pleasing her sadistic whims. Something just started to feel...off, however. The silence, unburdened by his squealing laughter or honks and slide whistle antics began to eat at her focus- she recognized it more horribly frequent than the blissful quiet that she had demanded in the beginning.

Something was up. There had to be.

Beppi had been too determined to play her defenses and vulnerabilities to simply let things go that easily. He was an adult dressed like a bozo who could inflate his head; it must not have been that difficult of a blow to deal with some innocent vandalism. But this was week number three without any trace of his presence, nor had there been a smidgen of hints to any tricks up his sleeve. No balloons shoved into odd places. No fairground toys or treats harmlessly placed in convenient spots. 

It was simply as if he had popped away from the world for good.

Bon Bon played it as simple tactics as to why she had been fussing about it so much. One needed to be on top of their game at all times in a war, and she prided herself on picking out every tiny shard of detail in her recipes. The Baroness grunted, tapping her fist heavily against the chipping polish as her stare intensified. Her thoughts were wandering to strange places.

He must be planning some revenge tactic in that goofy little home of his. Perhaps he was training attack monkeys or rigging carnival rides to become deadly battle robots. He must be. There **must** be something that she was simply not catching.

Her fist struck hard against the railing, drawing out a pained groan from her massive palace. The matriarch withdrew her hand and bit her fingers, hissing and dotingly stroking a spot next to the chipping with an apologetic hush.

Perhaps it was time to focus on something else.

She retreated inside and pulled her night robe off of the changing screen next to her pink vanity. Same in tone with whipped white edges, she reminded herself of a fancy little poodle whenever wearing the snug thing. After tying it all together, she removed her hat from its perch and set it down beside a few bottles of cologne and began to tussle her hair back into a peaceful state. Bon Bon paused to look herself over in the mirror, and blew herself a charming little kiss with a playful scowl to follow up. Practicing a war face was also important.

The night was still somewhat young, and there was always work to check up on. She descended from her royal tower, humming an old lullaby she knew to help keep her thoughts in line- less clowns, more sugar.

Attached to the right side of the estate and synced to the royal kitchen was the same confectioner’s shop she had grown up in. Of course, the little cobbled space had long been remodeled to match her sweetened world though her majesty would never have done away with it completely. It faced outwards for guests to enter and sample the many things her family had been known to make, though understandably it was the one section of property where her edible servants refused to step near- it was, in a morbid sense, a fantastic place to be alone and eat her troubles away.

Her father was absent, suggesting that she could take a seat behind the counter to collect her thoughts and recollect on the old days of her childhood. She missed them, somewhat, for times seemed so much simpler back then.

They were also void of annoying jokers.

She swept her hand against the dusted wood and polished glass of the display case, leaning slightly to get a better view of the assortments inside. This was the bonbons case, which had always been her favorite candies. They were also where her father had come up with her pet name, as his little bundle of sweetness.

Flicking the latch away from it’s fastener, she unlocked the case and carefully slipped the backing off to the side so that she could reach in. There was a special batch in here that she had loved for as long as she could remember: light chocolate shells with a whipped crown of frosting and diced cherry, containing the sweetest, lightest fluffy center of soft strawberry and cream. Princess Yums, she had called them ever since she was a small child, and for that endorsement they were the highest selling confection in the entire business. Bon Bon tenderly plucked one away from its brethren, cradling the fragile crimped paper it sat in while drawing it closer to her. As was ritual, she brought it up for a giddy sniff, and then plopped it into her mouth. Like the kiss of a princess, indeed.

As she chewed and hummed, it felt like all of the pressure of life was slipping away from her. She felt so light and blissful. Bon Bon leaned back in the striped iron chair, tilting her head back to close her heavy eyes and just think about other things for awhile. Customers, candy, deliveries...it was hard not to ponder such things when in the place that started it all. 

Had business been faring well, lately? She had been too caught up with painting her lawn red and blue to really notice.

Sitting back upright, Bon Bon glanced over to the stack of papers impaled on the accounting spike beside the register. No doubt were they all of the day’s orders. She skimmed through each paper, taking note of the names. Millie...something. She squinted at the smudged writing.

Oh well, she ordered a baker’s dozen of mint macarons, at least. Humming, Bon Bon set the slip aside and regarded the next. Whomever was writing these must have had gotten something on their hands, for everything was fading or smeared up in ink. It must have been one of the new lasses they hired from a few streets over, as she knew her father was never this sloppy.

The names truly didn’t matter, but Bon Bon was always curious about seeing who preferred what in her little shop. There was a swell sounding fella named Bart Batterman who had purchased some licorice bats and bubblegum floss, a last name she could make out as Clementine requesting jelly orange slices for her daughter’s birthday party in that tiny note margin...the stack truly was quite colorful.

It was like flipping through an old photobook containing old friends. She had prepped her elbow up onto the counter and relaxed her cheek into an upturned palm, letting a smile foster on her pursed lips as she looked through the orders. It was amazing, what things can be learned through a person’s snack requests. Her eyes had almost glazed over near the end, until something caught her eye.

Red….C. Her brows raised as she read the request and number on the slip. He sounded like quite the hot shot with a name like that, even if he did order two dozen of her self proclaimed Princess Yums. Two kisses a day for a week, she mused while raising a brow. That was some cute little perspective. 

Perhaps he ate one after breakfast and before bed. That was an even cuter and sillier thought.

Bon Bon fixed the stack and placed them back where they all belonged on the spike, looking at the sharp piece of metal for a moment. She wondered how far a balloon can go on it before popping.

-*-

This was starting to get ridiculous.

One month after the ordered tent trashing, and she was bullying herself into not feeling concerned about the clown’s welfare. The carnival still looked and sounded the same every night, but the constant complaining of her posted guards was a good excuse to drive her to reconsider her tactics. She eventually caved and sent them away from their stations to rest up, though nowhere in her mandates did she ever recall half of them slinking into enemy territory!

This was what she deserved for training gummy penguins to be ambush guards. Nobody ever expects the penguins!

Bon Bon had to take matters into her own hands when search parties returned equally less green than when they started out. Thank the stars above that tonight was a rainy one, so she was able to clunker up in a yellow coat and red galoshes to hide herself a bit better. She waived the carriage ride for a royally pissed stomp all the way down to the happiest place in town.

As she had anticipated, nobody had expected her in the fairgrounds. In fact, aside from a few nonchalant crowds, the place was mostly quiet due to the precipitation. Small gangs of multicolored coats huddled together under stalls or along the arcades, hushed but still giggling under the dampened win and pounding rain. 

She kept to herself while stalking down the paths, feeling a bit heavier in her boots as everything started to come back to her. Aside from a fresh patches here and there, the place was relatively unchanged. It was like she was stepping into her youth again. Bon Bon paused once, and only once to look up at the looming majesty of the rollercoaster. 

The penguins had to have been somewhere. Four sneaky little beaks, getting into goodness-knows-what. For a moment, her annoyed frown quivered from amusement. Perhaps they were secretly trashing the place, which she could be merciful towards. What was less amusing was that she was greatly underestimating just how massive this place really was- she felt like she was getting lost among the rows of tents, stands and ride queues. 

Bon Bon pivoted around in place once she reached another fork in the muddied road. Left towards the ferris wheel, or right and down along the knick-knack stands? Left looked fairly inviting, so that was where her squelching boots took her. She peeked out from under her hood, keeping an eye out for anything green and splashy. This was beyond agitating at this point, and stumbling around in enemy territory to boot! Biting back a frustrated squeal, Bon Bon instead favored stamping her boot into the muddied stone patch beneath her, balling her fists and focusing on breathing. Once she finds those little pigeons…

The weather was starting to become especially agitating. Sloppy wind was shoving itself against her back and splashing water up and even underneath it. Fighting with keeping her hood on straight was also a growing nuisance as well; would there really be anyone bothered if she snuck into one of the dozens of colored tents for a few minutes?

She should have paid attention to the color choice in question, instead of tearing that trembling flap open and shoving her way inside. She sighed while peeling back the soaked cowl and shook herself off, eyes slowly roving beyond her clothing to inspect the space she was in.

Her stomach dropped.

By some laughable streak of ill luck, she had charged into what was unquestionably her rival’s private quarters. What she had been expecting of Beppi’s honest-to-god bedroom would have been literally anything, but what unnerved her more was how...organized, it was.

It was a small space, stacked with trunks, prop cases and other large containers all around the edges. A single light hung from the arched ceiling, swaying slightly from its rigging; the wind must have been tugging on something outside that the cord was attached to. Thankfully, with it on she could see what she had been hoping was chaos though admittedly, the single bed he had tucked in the corner by a wood stove looked rather precious with a seemingly hand stitched quilt neatly tucked around it. A table and chairs were in the middle, sporting various bowls and tools centered around a simple pink ball on a plate in the center. Her eyes took her to the other side, spying a slightly cracked mirror propped up against some spare picket signs behind it. She swore there was another pair of flaps in the wall beside it, but couldn’t be sure from the positioning of some boxes.

A light bonking of her shin against a crate alerted her that perhaps all of this storage immediately in front of her was probably meant to hide the entrance she came through.

Bon Bon had little time to spin and zip on out when movement caught her eye near the mirror- those flaps beside it were parting. If she were to duck out now, the peeling shift against the violent weather alongside the tent would have been obvious. Reluctantly, she anxiously crouched down among the boxes and trunks, peeking out from a small gap between them.

Wherever that second “door” led to must have been a connection to another structure, for Beppi looked relatively untouched by the rain outside.

He sauntered in with a happy little jig stuck in his head, which only infuriated the Baroness more. After all that happened and he was still optimistic as ever...what an asshole. It didn’t seem to bother him at all however as he removed his hat and carefully stuck it on one of the chair handles, afterwards slipping around and settling down at the table while surveying the various items on it. Bon Bon did not at all enjoy the way he rubbed his hands and snickered lightly to himself.

She watched in transfixed fascination while his fingers danced above the bowls, trying to find the first one to catch his fancy into they settled down on one containing a brush and chocolate syrup. He swirled the tool around inside in a heavy sweep that reminded her of a witch brewing poison, holding the brush up high above the ceramic to giddily watch the excess trickle down in a wavering line below.

She grit her teeth. This was disgusting, this perversion of candy. Did his cruelty know no bounds? Shifting in her spot, she squinted harder from her tiny peephole.

Once he was satisfied with the consistency on the bristles, Beppi set down the bowl and reached with his free hand to grab a waffle cone sitting nearby- it was now that Bon Bon realized that his hands were ungloved...and they were as rosy pink as her own skin. So he really wasn’t an almost soulless hellspawn. Good to know. She raised her brows at the precision of his brush strokes around the uneven surface, carefully turning the molded pastry in his hand to set a perfect spiraling line upwards. Once he was finished and was satisfied with the angling, Beppi repeated the process again and again until the thickness and width was just right for his liking. He set the brush back into the bowl, and carefully tilted the waffle cone onto its side, keeping it balanced from his inserted digits.

She tilted her head while watching him bring it towards another bowl, reaching inside of it to bring out a spoonful of glittering dust (no doubt crushed candies, she hoped) up and over to sprinkle down onto the wet striping. He scooped out multiple spoonfuls, humming a delightful little tune to himself as the chocolate caught just enough of the excessive amounts snowing past it. Another phase down, the cone was inspected again for the appropriate dazzle in the pattern.

He played around with the object for a while, adding more pieces onto it until it was a convincing little edible party hat that glittered, sported candied dots along the edges and was topped off with a whipped garnish of frosting at the tip and base. Beppi was surprisingly gentle in setting in down in favor of bringing the pink ball closer to him. Bon Bon had put it all together mentally by this point.

He was making one of those silly cakes in the style of her. Her eyes widened in horror, feeling her stomach drop in the deepest pits of her body as he took painstaking slowness in painting on marked spots along the pink chiffon cake, setting brushes of various sizes back into their bowls to swap out for different ornaments- thin strips of finely cut licorice gently pressed along the guiding marks to symbolize closed, blissful eyes; lathered marshmallow fluff painstakingly primped and pressed simultaneously to resemble her fluffy locks, then dusted over in an even coating of powdered cocoa...the amount of time and gentility he took in crafting this thing was mesmerizing; no other cake before had been this detailed and unique. They had simply just been decorated cakes and cones that looked like nonspecific happy clowns. Eventually, the only thing left to place was her mouth, but at this point Bon Bon’s chest was pounding too heavily to really pay much attention. Her gaze was hazy as her mind rocketed off a flurry of heated thoughts.

Is this some kind of sick joke? She knew it. She knew he was up to something. He was going to haul his honking ass all the way back to her palace, sneak past her guards and taunt her with this uncanny little cake before smashing it before her face- the others must have been a ruse. A warning sign leading up to sinister things to come like one would find in seeing a dead animal on their doorstep. She clutched her chest, feeling sick to her stomach.

Just when it couldn’t get any worse, he brought up the knife. Clutching it in his hand like a madman, his eyes glinted while that damned, damned grin stretched even wider on his painted face.

It dropped fast when he heard something flapping and clacking, looking around cluelessly until he caught sight of a flap billowing in the wind behind some boxes.

-*-

To hell with those penguins, the traitorous little bastards. They deserved to be left behind for the trauma they caused her.

The rest of the night was spent in bed, shivering beneath the sheets but unsure of what caused it. Be it the chilling winds or the gruesome look into the madness of her enemy, Bon Bon could accept either as an excuse for not leaving her safe space. She had her sheets pulled all the way up to her nose, hiding from the troubles of a dark and wicked world. Her sleep, when it finally arrived, was anything but peaceful, though her frazzled mind could finally rest.

She slept through most of the morning, something not too unheard of due to her lax schedules, though once noon hit her servants began to fuss. She refused to answer any knocks or calls against the door, instead watching it from afar under the comfort of her blankets.

There were so many knots in her gut, forming from different worries and feuding emotions as her memories replayed the same visuals on repeat, again and again and again until she was trembling even more from madness. Another call was muffled out by the door, drifting through the maelstrom within her mind while her eyes stared slowly roved hesitantly towards the door. Her name...she swore she just heard her name…

There it was again.

Blinking wildly, she jolted back into focus and lifted her head to groggily squint. That was definitely her name being called. And she had a visitor.

Oh, what great news.

She hissed that there was no use explaining who it was; gut feeling had already delivered the only possibility. Like a wildcat she prowled through her room, swatting things from various places to slap on her body so that she could at least look presentable and dignified as always when giving an execution. Perhaps some hairs were out of place or her left glove was slipping a bit as she stomped down the many stairs in her abode, but little details like sanity were unimportant. She shoved her lollipop butler aside after he had scrambled to keep up with her, leaving him wincing and cut off halfway through his explanation as she continued along her warpath.

Bon Bon ignored the other servants, snapping off a piece of candy cane from a statue to wield as a makeshift spear once she entered the grounds. The stationed butterscotch guards scattered at her hunched approached, but the bicolored jester standing on the other side of her white pearly gates just kept smiling blissfully. He looked rather polished today, hat buffed and suit pressing, teeth sparkling under the midday sun to propose his confidence in holding a pink box in his hands.

He opened his mouth to speak, prepared to provide a practiced greeting to her that he had spent all night practicing in a pacing restlessness. But he didn’t have even a half second to utter a squeak before she was ramming that parcel right into his face.

Beppi scrambled back, bristling and crying out while she whacked him in the gut too for good measure. By the time the bent cardboard was peeled from his face, he was only able to catch her backside strutting back down the garden path as rattled guards closed the gates with apologetic frowns. They watched him try to keep that smile up high despite the twitch in his brows and the clumsy scramble of his hands in picking up the crumpled box. Then came the laughter as he turned to walk away, loud enough to remain trademark but less sharp than before.

He laughed, all the way back to the circus from sunny streets of curious onlookers and excited fans. But he didn’t notice any of them. Down the drying pathways of his home he trudged, clutching the box tighter while the laughter hushed to shaking giggles under the raucous ambience. It had all but died away once he was home, when his legs had given out.

Slumping back in his chair, Beppi just looked at his gift. His lip quivered while shaking hands reached out to gingerly lift the broken lid. Inside sat a smashed, dreaming little princess, sporting a broken crown and slumbering peace on her crumbled features. If the freshly cut strawberry lips hadn’t migrated to the left side, they could have pouted a sweet little smile to hush the wheezing sobs beginning to seep out from up above.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions or comments? Check out my tumblr!  
> socks-on-parade.tumblr.com
> 
> Thank you always for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if this chapter is a bit short- I don't like padding things out for length, and just wanted to showcase snippets from two opposing sides. :>
> 
> The italicized intro is my way of thanking a certain reader for the lovely fanart they made. Thank you for your support!
> 
> Also just realized I need to find a way now to explain how she can remove her own head...

_Her eyes twinkled at the sight of the pink box in his hands. Bon Bon lowered her makeshift harpoon and cupped a cheek, taking a shy step closer as his grin widened._

_She pointed daintily at the box, and then towards herself as her cheeks flushed. He puffed his chest out proudly and nodded, so eager! He extended his arms and dipped into a polite bow to the queen of candy, raising his head only when she accepted._

_One of the guards yipped when the discarded cane flew back and nailed him in the head, but Bon Bon didn’t care. She flipped opened the lid, peered inside and squealed giddily at the sight- her eyes could have turned into hearts! If they weren’t already wrenching shut as emotions stung behind them._

_How didn’t she know! Oh, what a fool she had been. The Baroness handed the gift off to the conscious guard and skipped into Beppi’s arms, peppering his cheek with kisses while praising him for his efforts._

_And maybe his studly body. That would have been nice too._

If the universe had gone his way, that was how the Great Smash incident would have happened. Beppi was sprawled out on his bed like a ragdoll, boring holes into the ceiling with tired, wild eyes. He didn’t understand; what had he been doing wrong all this time?

He was playing a rigged game, but smitten hearts didn’t know any better. All those years ago he had been an honest working clown setting up shop to live his dreams in an endless paradise; it was why he sold his soul in the first place, dammit. He wasn’t going to end up stale and boring like the ink salesman that ran in his family. Bon Bon wasn’t even known to him until she stomped on to his fairgrounds that fateful night...and it was like no lights of his own were as colorful nor as radiant as her glowing presence. His biggest issue had always been on the execution of trying to woo her, his way.

Unfortunately for him, Bon Bon loved the idea of an execution. His own. 

Miserable, he bit his lip and brought his hands up to rub at his aching eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he had cried as Beppi the Clown- perhaps the night before he decided on shedding his family honor to embark with business under the Devil, but never in this dashing bicolored suit and his charming reputation. Children loved him, as did boring working class adults. Why didn’t she?

He wasn’t even paying attention to the feng shui of his room until something began to loom over his bedside. He rolled his eyes over to regard the newcomer.

Djimmi had his brows furrowed in concern, and rolled his pipe to the other side of his mouth. He had announced his annual visit to the carnival for his famous fortune telling, but Beppi had been so distraught over himself to have actually remembered. Still, he managed a weak grin, which only brought the genie’s frown down further.

They had been friends for years. In fact, it was Djimmi who had offered him a free wish in chasing his Neverland. But Beppi had been stubborn even back then, and had politely refused in taking advantage of a friend’s generosity like that. Djimmi had respected that decision, being bound to terms and conditions of his own that weren’t of his choosing; it took his own deal with the horned king of the Isles to live as a free being with the only agreement being that he had a permanent master in the end. But his kind could live forever, if done wisely. He wasn’t concerned over his welfare these days. His focus had always been on fixing the problems of those less fortunate.

The genie slowly drifted up to calmly lower himself at the foot of the bed, crossing one leg over another while he lit up his smoke. His eyes then roved over to the jester and asked a single name. He couldn’t help but shake his head at the confirmation.

He held nothing over Beppi’s head, for the clown had been very antiromantic for the longest time. But Bon Bon had been the one to break that pattern, and while Djimmi had his own reservations regarding her temper and nature, he kept his tongue where it was and did his best to support. If he had to let his preferences decide for him, he would have dropped a sweet little nugget of truth that there were plenty of nice ladies that had grown to love the carny for his youthful antics and honest fun. But Beppi didn’t want easy prizes; his mind was set on the grandest, most frustrating spot at the top to win over. He had always been that way, and perhaps always will be. 

There was a known a spell or three for inspiriting love within another soul, but Djimmi played fairly.

He placed his hand on a blue knee, humming out small words of encouragement. It could have been worse, after all- at least Beppi still had his head.

After so many years of association, he had learned all of the right jokes and cues to trigger the clown into one playing through one of his wacky antics, though they didn’t work this time. He had been expecting the famous balloon head trick to pop up, followed by some snarky joke and a feel-good clap to his bare crimson shoulder, but Beppi looked more miserable than ever as he seemed to deflate further into his quilt. This rejection must have been a hard one.

Stroking his chin, the magician thought. He zapped a nearby elephant’s ball and rolled the circus prop over towards them. He then took to a serene float, hovered over the distraught showman and carefully hooked his hands underneath his armpits. Djimmi carefully lifted the limp form up into his arms like he would with one of his cats, and lightly set him on top of ball; Beppi thought best when he was moving.

He teetered for a few moments until he found his footing, but the clown slumped dejectedly while staring at the ground. He then started to lean so far back that Djimmi feared he would fall, but sighed with relief when a keen turn of the heel and a bump of the knees drew him back up into balance again. Humming again, the quiet confidante drummed his fingers against his cheek.

This wasn’t going to work either.

Perhaps some change in scenery would help.

Again, he picked up Beppi by the pits and set him back to the floor; his brows furrowed as he had to immediately yank him back upright moments later. This was going to be trickier than he thought. He nudged him out, flanking his backside to keep the momentum going.

First he tried the bumper cars. Beppi just slumped while children rammed into him. Perhaps the carousel would be the next best choice- Beppi loved his favorite horse in the bunch. But even after zapping the mounted rod away, the loyal steed barely took two steps away from the platform before he brayed and looked back curiously at the dead weight pushing on his back. Djimmi puffed hard at his pipe.

The rollercoaster? Admittedly, he rather enjoyed the close hold he had on Beppi at his side, but the heartbroken soul hardly reacted at all to his most beloved attraction. The ring toss was pitifully off mark, Beppi bonked his head right into the cotton candy he was given and spent a seemingly endless amount of time staring at the swans near the Tunnel of Love; Djimmi had to turn his head more times than he wanted to try and get him interested in the bottle tower game. 

By the end of the afternoon, they were right back in the same places as they started, and Djimmi was very reluctant to pull out his trump card this time. His fingers rubbed against the glossy cover of the box on his lap, while he watched the tight ball curled up under the patched blanket. It was like the honk had been ripped from his horn.

He was fortunate that Beppi hadn’t seen him pull out the box from his stash on the flying carpet, and perhaps that was a good thing. Large red fingers carefully nudged the top away and lightly pinched around a small confection resting inside. He whistled while setting the candy in his palm, watching the lump shifting just enough for golden eyes to peer out. The genie smiled innocently, and motioned with his head to come closer.

Reluctant, Beppi rolled the quilt off of himself and sat up, tossing the baseball he had been holding between his hands. He blinked heavily at the sight of the bonbon, sitting so cute all dolled up in its whipped hairdo and cherry pieces sprinkled all over. Djimmi’s smile remained hopeful and reassuring as he transferred it over, though he began to regret that choice instantly once he saw the change in stiffness in the clown’s eyebrows.

He had been delivering the Princess Yums for years as a little bit of encouragement and peace for his friend to have. They may have not been the real thing, but at least there was a bit of Bon Bon that the dejected lovebird could have in the safety of his home. And Beppi had loved them from the beginning- he loved them as much as he loved the gorgeous lady they were inspired from. It was the last resort to get a response, and it was not the one Djimmi had been wanting.

Beppi stared at the candy with a hawkish gaze, before he crushed it with a strained growl. His eyes were shut tight and the genie swore he could catch something glittering threatening to seep from the sides. He held out his hand in an attempt to comfort, but doubled back in surprise as Beppi yowled in wounded anger, lobbing the baseball right at the cracked mirror on the other side of the room.

-*-

Red. It was such a mysterious and handsome name.

Bon Bon dreamily sighed as she looked at the new order slip. Nobody else in the shop mattered at the moment but this one word inked out with the same request. Two dozen Princess Yums, and a very hefty bill paid in full for the expensive delights...this one was quite the high roller.

She was leaning across the counter, scribbling out his name again and again on scratch paper to copy the curvature of his script. It was quite elegant despite some of the straighter angles in a few places, almost speaking of some exotic origin. Red C....could it have meant Charming? The monarch giggled with a light snort, and excused herself back through the kitchen connected to her castle.

She had been in much greater spirits after the chance to vent out her disgust at the vibrant freak that had been harassing her. Who did he think he was, invading her grounds and calling her out into the open...but, that as in the past now. If the dumbass had a brain inside that tacky head, then he would be smart to leave her alone. But that was half of the battle- he still was her biggest competitor.

Some tea and cookies would do for now. She needed to go a day without thinking about him for once; as much as she seethed to admit it, there was something admirable (as frustrating as it was) about a man constantly walking to his death bed, just to request her audience.

Her father was in the parlor when she entered, already helping himself to a fresh pot. The old man had grown a bit more portly in his golden years from the abundance of sweetness in her abode, though he still retained his same infectious laughter and that magnificent, kingly mustache. He gestured to the seat opposite of him while smiling lightly at her, though he turned his head to cough as she drew closer. It almost sounded fake. As if he were trying to rally himself.

Bon Bon squinted for a moment as she took her seat, greeting him simply as she reached for a dusted sugar cookie. He poured her a fresh cup of black tea with citrus, and settled back into his spot while they shared a few moments of silence.

She knew exactly what he was going to ask, and immediately shot him down once he had tutted to himself and began to quip. Enough of clowns. Fairness or not, she hated them and felt no remorse in painting that agitatingly happy face a new color. Bon Bon took an aggressive sip, wincing immediately after as the heat bit at her tongue and cheeks. She clenched a trembling fist while riding it out, and grunted after a long attempt at swallowing. No more clowns.

It was a battle he wasn’t going to win, so the old man switched topics. And maybe tactics. 

He asked what had her so pepped up when she came in to snack with him. Thoughts of the mysterious Red C. still lingered on her mind, and she figured he would know better in the customers he had over the years. Clearing her throat, she sat up a bit straighter, nodded once and looked at him with a lidded gaze while asking about Red.

Her father quirked his brow, curious about the attempt at disinterest in her presentation. He stroked his facial hair as he thought, and gave a shrug. He couldn’t say, since he hadn’t really known Red at all personally. However, as the one who handled archiving the order histories, he could say that her mysterious star customer had been ordering from them for about five years now. He was fairly consistent, ordering the same two dozen of the same bonbons every few months at the longest but no shorter than one per cycle. The confectioner pondered aloud if he was buying them for family as well as himself, as that recipe in particular was very expensive in the end...the final retort made was that Red must be very rich to keep up his orders. 

The idea intrigued her further. A swell fella who was rich and bought for himself and family...he must have been pretty big himself, to eat that many bonbons on a monthly basis, regardless of how small they really were; the old musing she held earlier of a Yum after breakfast and before bed brought forth the tiniest of smiles on her pouting lips, to which her parent noticed. He made a mental note of his own to keep posted in the shop more often.

He hadn’t remembered the last time he had seen his daughter so giddy.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if this took a bit longer than the previous chapters to put up- I hope you are all having a good holiday season!
> 
> I also noticed a lot of attention has come from my work, so if anyone is interested sending questions, ideas or other things to me, my tumblr name is Socks-On-Parade. :) Thank you so much for the asks and fanarts. <3
> 
> And thank you all for your support!

The first thing that Djimmi did was give away the rest of the bonbons.

He wasn’t too fond of sweets, but he had agreed to pick up the deliveries for years. The genie had made many friends over the course of his long life, one of them being the esteemed Red, mysterious and charming as he was. The man was as secretive as he was sickly these days, but had a large hosting of mutual friends that they both shared…and with the violent reputation of the lady those sweets were designed after, not many were brave enough to pick up some for themselves.

For all of his infinite number of days both behind and ahead of him, Djimmi had long lost the sensation of remembering what fear was. As such, he was hardly bothered floating into the quaint little shop whenever the orders were prepared, leaving the appropriate payments and whisking himself away as quickly as he came. Today, he took a bit more time and far less teleportation in retracing his usual path throughout the isles, visiting familiar faces and politely turning down the same offers again and again to share a candy or two.

The further he gave Beppi some space, the better.

The clown operated on a spectrum of dangerous absolutes. When he wasn’t bursting with intense glee at every one of life’s bounties, he was stubbornly quiet in his violent broodings; the last time Djimmi had tried to interfere with a session, he had walked right into a den of snarling dog balloons and a fiercely scowling king sitting among them. On a day like this, he would rather keep his clothing and skin intact.

So, he focused on enjoying the sunlight kissing his skin while he carried that cursed box, walking on legs so rarely used he had almost forgotten how bendy and prickly it felt to stumble upon them. The genie returned polite greetings to those which passed him by, holding his smile up with practiced finesse. His thoughts were guided elsewhere, however.

By the time he had returned from his age-old ritual, night had fallen again upon the colorful carnival. He stood at the gates, hands briefly in silk pockets while he puffed upon his pipe. The grand sign above him beamed down its glittering array of lights and loud colors, unburdened by the troubles of its master just beyond the ticket booth. He nodded kindly to the freckled lad running the stand, though his hopeful eyes dropped to a groggy state once he made his way through.

He was tired today.

Djimmi did keep his smile warm and pleasant among the throngs of excited children that swarmed him as he walked, stopping periodically to perform one of his famous smoke tricks and a divination or two for their parents. 

Even if his friend suffered, Beppi truly worked hard to make this enchanted place pure for those young at heart. The games still played and the rides pursued their set paths, and laughter bubbled through the air as it always did. Rich aromas of sweets and treats still pervaded the air, as did the same flashing hues and tones from every tent, sign post and attraction.

The world really was peaceful here.

It just broke his heart that one soul here wasn’t able to bask in it.

Once he had freed himself from the hoard of fans, Djimmi paused at the fork in the road. His gaze naturally settled on the path towards the ferris wheel, but he chose against it. Perhaps he should give more time…

He had started down the vendor’s path instead, but paused only a few steps in. He would feel even guiltier if he prolonged his absence. Reluctant and anxious, the genie turned on his heels and walked slowly back to his original mark. His hand hovered over the red flap on the bicolored tent, instead leaning in to place his head near the thick fabric. It was silent inside, but that didn’t rule out the possibility of activity. He braced himself, took a deep drag from his smoke, and slipped through the cover.

His brows furrowed as he glanced around the room. It seemed his theory was incorrect. Where did Beppi scamper off to?

Deep down Djimmi hoped that the clown was out finding sweet therapy in his rides or performing for his fans. It was an innocent hope, but one grounded in years of trust with his friend’s routines. 

He tapped his pipe above the ashtray Beppi always kept out for him on the table, and crossed his arms as he surveyed the room. No throwing knives embedded in things, no disarray in the boxes...he blinked at the sight of something square resting on the bed. Oh no.

He hated seeing that box out in the open. The magician sank back into the same spot he had been sitting earlier, crossing his legs this time while reaching out to pick up the small chest. A small hum escaped him as he peeled the lid upwards.

The same sealed letters and torn pages remained at the bottom, underneath small trinkets made of paper and glass. Origami flowers and whittled animals, folded hearts and a handmade snowglobe of a princess, next to something new settled beside them. Djimmi cooed sadly at the sight of the pink box fragment that remained from the rejected cake.

Beppi had been looking at his collection box again, which was always a disheartening mistake whenever he failed in his attempts at wooing Bon Bon. Years of scribbled poems, dreamy musings, pronounced hopes and sketched plans all sealed away in a safe space- a broken heart in a painted cage. Djimmi had no place in touching anything inside, but after the intense pain that spurred from the jester from his latest attempt, he couldn’t stop himself.

He carefully sifted through the contents, ignoring the urge to read from the pages out of respect. Large fingers gently turned the little ornaments one by one, taking note of the colors. Blue and red, the proud colors Beppi sported, but Djimmi hadn’t failed to notice the pinker hues in and the painted eyelashes in the red objects.

It was tragic symbolism, really. A blue heart yearning for the red passion just beyond his fingers. Just like his iconic suit, the colors always clashed together in a polarizing dance, so close to mixing but never joining in violet harmony. He had been holding up a red pony figurine when his gaze slipped beyond it, and he lowered the glass animal to tilt a brow. There was something peeking out from the shifted papers, deep in the depths. He had never seen this one before.

Djimmi carefully placed the fragile item beside its kin on the sheets next to him, and slowly reached inside. 

Beppi had always been a master with his hands, be it from building up balloon shapes in seconds to crafting the cake he had poured his heart out into. As silly as his persona was, the soul beneath it was an artist of passion, and it showed flawlessly in the pen strokes on the slip of paper the genie was now holding. Djimmi took in the soft colors and perfected line work, though he couldn’t find it in himself to truly enjoy the drawing as he scrutinized the gorgeous representation of the side profile of the Baroness, peaceful under a starry sky. Something else was catching his focus, namely the strange texture on the back- it was too crinkled on his fingers to be normal paper. Turning it slowly, Djimmi had to avert his gaze in a sorrowed exhale.

The box was soon back under the bed where it belonged.

\---

The ferris wheel had been in motion when he had entered the tent; it had gone still when Djimmi had left it. What caught his eye faster than the change in momentum was the lack of a line waiting to get into the attraction. He had his face at a slight tilt, suspicious and on guard as he walked closer to observe the sign posted on the gate leading into it:

**“Closed for Repairs”**

Curious indeed. Perhaps the ride was merely on a test run earlier? Djimmi glanced upwards, listening to the growing theory rumbling throughout his mind.

He was fortunate that the power of flight was in his favor, bypassing any need to climb as he floated slowly towards the very top. He skimmed every booth left and right, but knew that the one he was looking for was the farthest away from troubles. He was quiet in crossing his arms over one of the sides, resting his chin upon them as he watched the occupant. Beppi was slumped in the seat, fingers laced and thumbs slowly rotating around one another as he looked up at the starry night sky.

Out of all the spots in his immense park, the ferris wheel was one of Beppi’s least favorite. Slow and predictable, it didn’t provide the adrenaline to soothe his wild nature. It was, however, the optimal thinking space. 

It wasn’t immediately apparent if the clown was even alerted of his presence yet, but Djimmi was fully aware that Beppi was far more keen than he played himself off to be. So, the crimson being hovered peacefully in his spot, roving his focus instead to the glittering bay under the silver moonlight. It was rude to stare.

It was more so rude to not listen to his heart. He had waited for many years, but he would find it selfish to make his real affections known. His friend was suffering, and even if the chase for Bon Bon’s affections waned, Djimmi was fully aware that Beppi’s own heart would never truly forget how it beat for her. It was a painful revelation that hit him one day, in knowing that the clown simply was not conventional, and that in and of itself was ok. He was never going to love another as much as he loved her, and it was a reality that the fortune teller had long accepted.

If he couldn’t provide himself to be a potential partner, then Djimmi was far more proud in being a loved protector. Nodding to himself, his smile warmed as he reached out to carefully cup the clown’s shoulder.

When Beppi didn’t jerk in surprise, the genie could be at peace in knowing that his presence was expected and welcomed. He slowly pushed himself up into the booth, sitting beside his longtime partner. Beppi was still looking up at the sky, but he finally did speak.

To hear him question himself as a fool broke the genie’s heart. It had been a playful jab among many of the isles to label the showman as such, and it had been a title the clown had worn proudly for many years. In some ways, yes. In others, no. But the real context this time behind it drew forth reluctance in the large magician. Djimmi thought on it for a moment, before he responded his disapproval on the matter.

He was fighting a gnawing urge to reach out and loop his arm around the smaller body, but he instead kept it gripping the back of the seat. He couldn’t.

If he had been smoking, he surely would have snorted on it when Beppi moved the arm for him, and used the genie as a comfort blanket as he began to wheeze and choke.

\---

Bon Bon sighed whimsically as she looked at the latest order slip.

Red...Red the Rich, with his two dozen artisan candies.

Red the Righteous, no doubt spending so much money for so many candies to share and spread her image.

Red the Regular, in that she was growing confident that, just as he had before, he would be picking up his order next month.

All she had to do was wait so that she could match the image to this mysterious supporter to her business. No other soul bought as many Yums as he had. Perhaps the others were jealous of how royal and cute those bonbons were.

She stroked her thumb over the fanciful font on the receipt, slumped like a dreaming schoolgirl on the counter in the shop. The lass currently running it was giving a satisfactory attempt at ignoring her, though she nervously tilted her head and pushed up her glasses while attempting small talk with her employer.

Things were rather...dead, at the moment. Perhaps she should play nice.

Bon Bon chuffed, quipping back simply that she was fine, awake and standing which was only half the battle. She outright refused to answer why she was staring so much at a simple name...and looming inside here when she currently had a croquet match to host. 

The Baroness huffed, and stood up and snap the paper back into an upright stance in her hand. There wasn’t anything wrong with simply admiring a fellow lover of fine candies, but she remembered what she had just told herself mentally. Play nice...sighing, she looked at the girl, looking her up and down. Such a shaky thing, in her little schoolgirl dress and messy curls...fine.

She replied simply that this customer in particular had been fascinating her lately, and kept her answer at that. She surprised herself, however, when the lass perked up and clapped her hands together with bubbling excitement.

An idea hit her, and Bon Bon’s lips had to remain light in their smile lest her excitement take over for her. Clearing her throat, her tone turned sweeter as she asked if the girl had seen Red in the shop before.

To her ecstatic delight, the lass had.

Bon Bon’s hand crinkled the slip tighter as she listened to the description of the fella, vague as it was in the youth’s memory. Something about him being tall, very tanned, muscled and with a deep, rumbling voice...and that he just laid down the coins as if they were going out of style.

More than satisfied with the image in her head, the candied queen cooed softly to herself.

Next month’s order couldn’t come fast enough.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In time, longing can grow. Conversely in time, heartbreak can be healed. 
> 
> Then there is the calm before the storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if this is a bit of a late update, but I got some warm fuzzies writing it. As always, thank you all for your support!

It had been a long wait, but eventually the 10th day of the new month came- the cyclic day of Red’s order.

Bon Bon had settled herself against the glass countertop once again, poised and perfect as she watched throngs of tourists and regulars milling in to see her wares. They ambled about like sheep, oggling the displays and crowding before stands to point out the obvious details of the selections. In a blurred unison they chattered and smiled, tasting samples from the trays of the clerks hurrying about to keep order, and through it all the Baroness stood and waited. The world around her moved in a haze of symphonic sounds and colors, passing by the thoughts that were clouding her focus.

Red...he was handsome, tanned and spoke in a purring voice. That was what the squeaky lass with the clunky glasses had told her weeks ago. The rendered imagery was simple enough, but difficult to execute when some of the fellas walking through her door sported at least one or two of those qualities.

As the hours passed, she became more frazzled. Tall men, handsome men, men with deep rumbling tones and rich pigments in their skin...were any of them Red? 

Her fingers started to lose their stability once the afternoon slipped into nightfall. They fumbled through the pile of growing slips on the spike, scouring each note with excruciating detail to see any signs of the name; she felt even more maddened when requests for the Yums came up multiple times...but never in the quantity that Red had ordered.

They weren’t cheap bon bons. Out of every candy and sweetened pastry in the store, her signature treats were the most expensive due to their presentation and her personal flare. Visitors always crowded to see them in their famous glory, but fewer could shell out enough coins to purchase more than a handful at a time. To purchase an order as large as Red’s was beyond expensive, and yet he always had his two dozen boxed and ready on the 10th of the month, every month for at least the past few years; she’d have to really dig deep into the archives to see how far his taste truly extended. It went without saying that his generous donations to her shop had made a large chunk of her piggy bank. In a way, Bon Bon owed him at least something for his dedication.

She frowned heavily while holding the slips. None. No Reds, anywhere. The papers slowly fluttered from her opened palms to the glass below; her clerks saw the somber distance in her eyes.

It was the 10th of the month...Red…

The nervous young lads and lasses glanced from their positions, watching her with unified concern. 

Bon Bon didn’t have it in her to greet her father as she ghosted past him, eyes downcast to the regal carpeting as she slowly milled into the parlor. Naturally, the old soul tagged along, but chose to stay at the door frame; he toyed with his mustache while he watched his daughter slowly splaying herself across the lounge with a quiet sigh. She crossed her arms over the edge and rested her chin atop them, looking out the window and interally cursing the smiling moon that dared to be pleasant.

He asked her what was troubling her mind, and received the silence he was expecting. The confectioner slipped his hands into the pockets of his coat while he toed closer. Pulling up a chair, he sat beside her under the silver light of the young evening.

He asked her if this Red was on her mind again. She nodded simply. Her father was silent for a moment, thinking. Eventually, his thoughts caught up with him.

Bon Bon turned her head to regard him, as she was asked if she were becoming smitten by her mysterious customer. For once, she was unsure of how to make a proper rebuttal.  
\---  
The moon wasn’t being watched by just one person tonight.

Deep beneath the strings of twinkling lights and the shadowy spines of mechanical wonders, Beppi was too. He quietly stroked the mane of his favorite carousel horse while keeping a firm hand on his reigns. 

Once in a great while, Djimmi would employ his wondrous magic to set Charlemagne free from the pole he was set upon, though the lemon-hued steed was certainly getting up there in years. His polish was a continuous project to keep restored, and his legs wobbled in worn shoes. Out of all the adorable and lively ponies lining the ride, the genie had always been curious on why the strangest one had been the chosen favorite of the clown, but he knew the answer the first time he saw the two bonding together- Beppi simply loved the unconventional.

The old horse wheezed out a bray that was certainly more fitting for a mule than a creature of grace and speed, but he more than made up for it in terms of affection. The clown jumped from the force of his mount’s doting nuzzle, pausing in their stroll to turn and face him. He managed a smile, and gently butted heads with his dearest pet while ruffling those long soft ears. Perhaps he could snag an apple from one of the stalls and brush all the flakes and coatings off of it; old Charlie the Mane deserved something sweet for being so.

His golden eyes glance up, looking beyond the saddle and flicking tail to see a familiar form approaching. Djimmi tipped his turban in polite greeting, crossing his arms at the sight. Beppi was making great progress. Ever since their meeting at the ferris wheel, the genie had been taking some extra steps in his comforting to ease the clown’s mind away from the derailed ride of emotions Bon Bon had left on him. He had hidden the keepsake box somewhere in the tent and out of Beppi’s sight, though the bigger change in space was his own belongings slowly beginning to take up residence in there. Overnight, two old pals became cozy roommates, and it had seen a budding spark of interest in Beppi’s focus.

Ever since that night, everything Djimmi did was for Beppi’s happiness. Fortunes and magic tricks still took up chunks of his day, but the rest of his time was play time. He went on every ride, nudging him along like a hound to a lamb, away from the dark forest and into the pleasant meadow.

He made good efforts to go on any ride Beppi wanted, and to play every game a hundred times over if that was what was desired. Djimmi forced down his own reservations on certain foods to enjoy them with his friend, and of course, he altered reality just a bit to compliment the clown’s own. On a night like this, there was nothing more picturesque than walking up to the view of a beast and his master, walking along side by side as equals. One frayed, the other wounded, but their burdens were shared evenly.

The magician hummed blissfully, snapping his fingers to conjure up a ripe, juicy apple. Whistling as a signal, Djimmi tossed it like he would a baseball. Naturally, Beppi sprung like a rabbit, catching it with ease and offering the fruit to the shuffling beast. They both shared the same smile while Charlemagne chuffed and gobbled it right out of his master’s hand.

Once the horse was saddled back up in his spot on the carousel, Djimmi took his chance. He never overstepped his boundary, but from their shared closeness as of late...he felt he could at least savor the madness in thinking that maybe, just maybe...Beppi felt some sliver of affection to him. 

It was cruel to live out his desires, but he had always been a spirit of fairness. Without revealing his true sentiments, the genie could at least offer his friendship, his ear, a warm embrace and a lifetime of happiness in granting his wishes. It hadn’t been an easy thing to offer at first- the first few days after the ferris wheel had been rough.

Bon Bon had left a deep, oozing hole inside of Beppi’s heart. Getting close enough to try healing it was as easy as freeing a beast from a snare. Beppi had been all teeth and bark at first, defensive and shying away from Djimmi’s acts of kindness- he was afraid of being hurt again, and that was understandable. As loathed as he was to do it, for those stumbling days Djimmi had no choice but to stand back and watch from afar, still holding his offers of kinship and comfort on his sleeve.

The first few attempts he had made to offer the clown’s favorite snacks, Djimmi had received a meek gaze followed by a turned back, though the more successful attempts yielded partially nibbled remains of cotton candy or popcorn bags whenever he left for periods. Aside from the rollercoaster, the bounce house was Beppi’s favorite place to blow off energy, though Djimmi’s offers to nudge him in and even join in for a good hop or ten ended up with Beppi digging his heels into the ground. He had even seemed timid of the games involving bashing with objects or pricking with darts; Beppi scampered away fast whenever the genie even so much as pointed in those directions.

Beppi had more than graciously initiated that hug up in the ferris booth during his moment of forlorn loss, but afterwards it was almost as if being touched in return was a painful experience; he had fought and kicked many times when Djimmi initiated any acts of physical comfort, having remembered how painful it had been when Bon Bon had struck him for his own tenderness.

The last few days had been like attempting to guide out a timid rabbit from the thorny brush using only a wide berth and a carrot in his palm, but the magician soon realized that repetition fed logic- after the 4th day of giving Beppi his space and keeping his presence harmless, the clown started to slink closer and closer to him. 

On a night like tonight, a massive breakthrough was underway.

Djimmi kept his hands to himself, smiling kindly down at his smaller friend as the carousel began to rotate again. He chose not to pick a horse, instead respecting the space and his own menacing size to grip the pole of the pony beside the old yellow steed. Beppi had started the ride off in a light slump against the brass, but slowly brought himself back upright into a more comfortable sit the longer his eyes lingered on Djimmi’s. They spent the entire ride in each other’s sights, and the genie’s heart felt lighter than the jaunty music surrounding him the more he saw a genuine smile budding on the clown’s lips.

When the ride was over, he graciously removed himself from the platform and turned to offer his hand out of good nature- he hadn’t entirely been expecting the rocks in his belly the moment he felt a gloved hand accepting it.

They walked together in content silence, switching from touching palms to hooking arms while the weight in his gut seemed to fall directly into his feet. Beppi was no doubt snuggled up beside him for comfort during his vulnerable time, and that was the intention Djimmi put into his head to accept. This was a time of healing. And he himself was a large, warm, soothing presence. He directed his focus elsewhere, taking in the ringing chimes of various bells and whistles sounding off from among the crowds and taking in the smells of fresh battered sausages being pulled from their cooking pots. In a noisy, chaotic sort of way, the world was very peaceful here.

The more they walked, the more delay he noticed came from Beppi’s movements. The clown was tiring out, which was a positive thing for the genie in his near-constant presence in keeping his friend busy and distracted from his sorrows. Instead of guiding him down towards the petting zoo, Djimmi instead lightly nudged against Beppi to shift their direction. His smile grew more dreamy, choosing to visibly ignore the groggy nuzzling against his side as they made their way to the private tent. 

Beppi fortunately didn’t put up a fight this round when gently pushed towards his patchwork bed, to which he obediently slumped against at first before clawing his way all the way up and under the warm quilt.

While the jester wiggled about to find the optimal cozy spot, the genie dimmed the lighting and put on a record of soft classics on the phonograph (near the unfortunately still-smashed mirror). On a stool afterwards, he stayed by Beppi’s side, remaining the last image his wounded little rabbit would see before sleep eventually nestled up to claim him. 

For good measure, Djimmi stayed in his silent vigil for a good period after hearing Beppi’s breathing dip to a slow, peaceful state, before he carefully got up, fetched the new box of bonbons from out behind the destroyed looking glass (a place he knew Beppi avoided like the plague now), and quietly slipped out to make some delayed deliveries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have any ideas to share? Feel free to hit me up on my tumblr: Socks-on-Parade is my name!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Impressions are important. They can also be entirely dangerous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt the last chapter was a bit of a peaceful period away from the plot of the story, so I'm bringing the tensions back. 
> 
> Enjoy. :)

When she had heard that Red’s delivery had somehow been picked up in her absence, Bon Bon was livid. 

How dare he. He, the rich bastard who could just waltz right into her family business and clear out the Princess Yum stock with a pretty penny, and in doing so continued to evade her? 

It made no sense.

She stared into the soft amber ripples of the tea in her cup, slumped in her spot on the chaise lounge. It was very unladylike, though the more she thought of him, the more Bon Bon’s confidence slowly began to dip. But, she was not the sort to give in that easily. The sly guy had to be playing hard to get. That was the only reason she would accept; why else would he keep coming in to purchase her fanciest of candies?  


It was easy to speak the language of the machismo, but punchy words could only hold so much ground.

After tea, she retreated to the privacy of her tower. The rest of the evening was spent at her vanity, staring aimlessly into her own eyes on the other side of the mirror while she dolled herself up and then cleaned it all away. Again and again, until her face was even pinker from the oils and her eyes smudged under residue of pigments. 

She snorted, and adjusted the roller currently holding up her bangs.

Red...he must think he is so clever, toying with her emotions. It was uncouth and dastardly in this day and age. The Baroness chuffed and curled her lip, tightening the grip of tiny spines. Tugging at her heart, he was, in the same way her hair piece was to her roots. He must have thought he was so suave, making a lady’s heart yearn like that…

And he was very much right.

Bon Bon scrutinized herself as she held two tubes of lipstick up to her lips. Foundations and blushes be damned, if she was going to hunt down a fool and kiss him, then she wanted to have the right shade to imprint.

...Would she kiss him?

Perhaps not off the bat. She was no hussy. Bon quirked a brow as her gaze focused back on itself, and she huffed. It wasn’t like she knew anything of Red anyway...just eyewitness accounts and some scraps of paper. This was ridiculous...but also rather bewitching. Something about his lack of detail excited her greatly. He was a secret admirer, after all. And the best ones always played hard to get, according to herself.

Bon Bon was hardly ever (knowingly) wrong, naturally.

She swallowed down a small giggle, though the confidence in her pert little smile waned when she observed one of the tubes. She had no idea who he was...what he looked like or his attitude beyond testimonials.

Knitting her brows together, she dropped the makeup onto the vanity’s counter and hung her head with a heavy sigh.  
What was she going to do?

With her eyes closed, her other senses began to perk up in the darkness. She smelled the various perfumes she had spritzed on her arm for mood sampling, and of the rose oils used extensively tonight in removing her makeup experiments. She could feel a hole in the inner wall of her right slipper, and the dryness of her mouth...she sat up straight and blinked, glancing towards the balcony. It had been ages since any attention had been paid to the distant carnival music.

Bon Bon’s fingers slowly scraped against the wood as they curled. As quickly as a certain fool flashed in her mind, he was shoved aside as another sprung up in epiphany. Wasn’t that genie currently on tour?

Even when she was younger, Bon Bon shyly kept away from the carnival, long before she had her first encounter with the clown. The only things she knew between then and now was bits and pieces of what others said among her brief experiences. She swore at one point there was a genie that occasionally roamed through it, performing magical wonders...and fortune telling.

Sitting up straighter, the Baroness blinked, and slowly placed her hand over a thundering chest.

It would be madness to go back. She was no fool.

However...the more she thought on it, the more her memory pieced things together. His name was….Gin? Jimmie? Something like that. And he told fortunes. He could see into the future. He knew things above all others. 

If she braved going back into that playland of nightmares, she could perhaps find the answers she seeked.

The Baroness looked down at her chest, listening to the inner thumping of her heart between her ears. 

Listen to your heart, daddy always said.

\---

It was miraculous. What he had thought was only a few day ordeal had actually been an entire month’s worth of healing.

Djimmi never paid attention to calendars- there was no need when immortality was in play. But when he had glanced at the calendar yesterday and saw that it had actually been the 10th, the genie jumped out of his hover. It was an ecstasy that also brought a chill of revelation, that not only had Beppi been in recovery for that long but that he had toughed it out, all on his own willpower under his friend’s support. Time flew so fast when giddiness and action spun together in his mind…

It also meant he had almost forgotten his dutiful promise to his long lost friend, Red. He wasn’t proud of nearly busting the shop’s door off its hinges during his scramble to retrieve the order of bonbons, nor had he been gleeful in trying to perform his flight in the dead of night, so far away from the soul who needed him the most.

His promise was starting to fester in doubt, now that he had seen how vicious the inventor of the sweets had been to those who admired her image and craft. It felt so sour to honor something that came from such a tainted source, like a poisonous paradox.

Dijmmi shook his head. He couldn’t think like this, not now. 

The magician crossed his arms over the railing from the platform of the bumper car attraction, watching Beppi spinning his favorite toy around throngs of enemy karts. It was amazing, how a month could heal wounds. He seemed to have reverted back to his old ways, grinning wildly while crashing into equally reckless children and startling adults. He whooped and pumped his fists whenever he zipped away from charging bursts, frequently glancing back with all the charged excitement of a child himself, seeking his parent’s approval. Djimmi returned the waves sent his way, sighing dreamily once he was sure the clown was oblivious again to his watchful gaze.

So passionate...so endearing…

When the ride was over, he knowingly caught a pouncing jester springing away from the gate, chuckling while absorbing all of the kicking, wiggling, babbling high of playtime that Beppi always intoxicated himself with. He returned the affections with a firm squeeze, grinning wider at the tiny squeak he was expecting from the delighted spirit.

When they separated, it was Beppi now that was leading the charge. Djimmi held his hand out to be claimed, following behind his little rabbit as Beppi zipped among the crowds with his usual pep, dragging his friend with him to the bounce house. The clown whined and bounced with a beg when the genie showed reluctance of heading inside; he was so used to the serenity of floating that fast flight often made him dizzy. 

Nudging him with a palm on the small of his back, Djimmi offered one of his apologetic grins and watched as Beppi huffed and hopped inside to join a few fair goers in weightless revelry.

Once again, Djimmi found himself waiting outside. He had made large efforts before in partaking with every activity, but now that Beppi was returning to his old ways...the old mystic was more than content with just watching from afar while enjoying the atmosphere. Now was actually a good time to have a smoke.

He turned his back on the large tent, lighting his pipe away from the open flap of the entrance- no need to startle the poor folk inside with smoke. Taking a few deep puffs, Djimmi proceeded to watch the lazy trails of smoke bend into peculiar shapes. A cat, a turtle with a hat, a lollipop, a boot...he started to make out color from behind the fume. 

Lowering his pipe, Djimmi blinked and nearly dropped it at the sight of the Baroness. Fortunately for him, she was a good distance away, distracted by the painted signs and colorful sweets on a candy stand. Unfortunately for him, she was also dangerously close to Beppi’s location.

It would be rude to just whisk himself away and leave his post, so he tensely tapped his piece out over a patch of cobblestone while watching her.

For a spiteful tyrant...she was dressed rather simply tonight. The summer night was still young, stubbornly holding the last of its heated embers over the festive world below. Her dress was light and as pink as her blushed cheeks, quivering lightly in unison with the veil of her cap in the lazy wind. Bon Bon tapped the black heel her boot against the ground as she looked to be considering something among the circus sweets, but decided against it while anxiously spinning the equally pink parasol propped against her shoulder.

When their gazes finally connected, Djimmi swore he felt his ancient heart stumble. Her brows knitted together as she regarded him, only to raise a moment later. Slowly lifting the accessory up and over her head, Bon Bon pulled it shut and daintily clicked it’s tip against the cobbled path. She leaned on it slightly while taking the genie in, and used it after as a walking stick while she primly approached him. For the sake of pleasantries, Djimmi conjured up a suitably charming smile, and tipped his turban to her.

When she told him his name, he nodded and took one step to the left. Directly in front of the opening, he performed a half bow with his looming bulk and confirmed her suspicions with a purring chuckle.

Bon Bon quietly gasped. Tall...a purring voice... _RED_...she fiddled with the handle on her parasol while shifting in place. She cleared her throat, took a small inhale and managed a silky smile of her own. She kept her words simple, asking if it was true that he could answer all questions. Unnerved by her saccharine sweetness, Djimmi nodded again while maintaining his blissful front. Politely, he confirmed again.

Behind his pearly smile, his molars were grinding with every step she closed between them. Behind him, Beppi’s bubbly laughter felt like knives threatening to cut away the strings holding up the facade.

He was thankful that he was unable to sweat easily, the moment Bon Bon heard that familiar, cursed laughter.

There was a sharp glint in her eye, but she blinked it away and presented a somewhat convincing giggle. Djimmi fought against every synapse begging his arm to twitch the moment she reached out to sweep her gloved hand across it, as she cooed out an innocent request: he could tell her some fortunes...if he wasn’t already preoccupied.

It was easy to tell her that the stars bequeath a good ole’ “piss off”, but he was far too kind to make up such an excuse. The genie hummed, and gave a small nod while his smile dipped a bit. Of course he could; Djimmi the Great never turned down the curious. His smile quivered further when her own turned a bit too wide to be innocent, following her away with a palm on her shoulder. Unable to glance back under her persistent gaze, the genie could only hope that he could subtly shepherd the sly little fox away.

But the keen-eared rabbit did notice.

Peeking out from the entrance to the bounce house was a single golden eye amid the dimmed colors. A white gloved hand slipped out to grip the side of the flap, tearing it under the shaking tightness from his hold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have any questions or suggestions? Drop me a note at my tumblr blog, Socks-on-Parade!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the search for answers, old mysteries only open up new ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I promised before, things will get sweet and happy in the end. I also received a lot of questions about the mysterious Red, so his arc gets explained in this.
> 
> I try to answer every comment and question when I can, but as always I want to say I read everything you folks give me in return, and I thank you all for your support. Enjoy. <3

Djimmi was mercifully quiet once he invited the Baroness into his tent.

It was a quaint little space, providing seating for two among the scattered cushions around the divination table, which in turn was surrounded by dimly lit candles in jars here and there on his many shelves (for he wasn’t that big of an idiot to keep open flames near rambunctious guests and his ancient tomes). Tapestries and exotic carpets hung among the walls to drown out the brighter colors on the outside, though Bon Bon paid them no attention, as she didn’t towards the various mystical knick-knacks and artifacts he had placed on stands and among scrolls to interest his guests further. She took one look at the inside, hummed, and chose a spot among the cushions to sit...but only after staring at the genie long enough for him to get the hint to look away; gentlemen do not oggle ladies adjusting their petticoats.

He gave her all the space she needed, for he desired as much of it between them as possible while he focused his eyes on peeking out the tent for any signs of a certain presence. A clearing of the throat signaled invitation for him to move, to which Djimmi did after taking in a slow deep breath. When he turned to face the candied queen, the fortune teller was sporting his charming grin again. It took much not to let it falter nervously under the allured smile she summoned as they locked gazes.

Curses above, he was too charming.

Hoping his hardy chuckle wasn’t as shaky as it felt in his belly, Djimmi took a seat across from her and crossed his legs. It was mighty handy that there was a crystal ball between them, otherwise he would have to fear his mixed signals would prompt her to hold his hand during this session.

The ball itself was useless, being nothing but ordinary glass formed into a spherical shape. But, its infamous association with mystics had bewitched fairgoers for eons, so he fanned his fingers above and around it while crooning out words in tongues that honestly meant nothing. Pure gibberish- if he wanted to truly conjure up something, then he’d have to be truly reckless for the sake of authenticity. But his perfected bullshitting seemed to have worked in fooling the Baroness, who leaned in a few inches more and focused her attention on the mysterious orb of insight. 

He could make it light up with a spell or two for an added effect, but perhaps it was best not to get carried away. He was in a cage with a lioness right now, slathered in whatever meaty gossip and fantasies she no doubt must have had of him with those sultry eyes peering from across the table. She found him out about the bonbons, fair enough.

Clearing his throat, the genie remembered his showman’s front, and began to slowly drag his hands above the ornament again, channeling his gaze to focus on its center- he said that the object of one’s greatest desires lay at the center of these things, and he mentally pondered that if delusion set in, she would find herself believing an entirely different image than he- Bon Bon would be seeking warm and spicy reds...Djimmi added tender, sweet blue to that. He hummed softly, employing a bit of sneaky magic to cast the sphere in a soft glow. It raised the brows of the Baroness, who leaned in.

Truth be told, fortune telling relied mostly on the shoulders of the client- with the right amount of subtle probing, she could tell him her own answers, and if he were a quack it would be simply easier to build off of that to sell her false hopes while patting a fat pocket afterwards. But Djimmi was noble- predatory divination disgusted him. Despite using clever tricks to enhance the wonder, he was genuinely curious about what Bon Bon was thinking; he had never seen her so...gentle. Subdued.

She asked him what he saw in the orb, to which the magician cleared his throat and furrowed his brows. Truth be told, he saw nothing; if she wanted an accurate representation of a scrying, he would tell her any answers immediately. But Bon Bon never liked things cut and dry. Just like Beppi, she thrived on attention, although hers was a more aggressive route- feeling in control and feeling catered by it was something she chased. The Baroness always got the very best, no question.

It was just painful that he was drawing this out, not knowing where the clown was.

But, Djimmi persevered. He kept his brows furrowed, looking into the nothingness of the orb. In reality, his mind was loosening up to the whisperings of the universe. The answer was already known, much to his dismay, but he never turned down what the winds hushed and what the crickets told. The genie pulled his hands back while brightening the crystal ball ever so slightly, gazing above it to watch her transfixed gaze of wonder into it.

As much as he wanted to be spiteful, after all the years of animosity between her and Beppi...it didn’t feel right to instigate it. Instead, his eyes slipped back to the center, growing a bit hazy as his thoughts wandered.

He told her that he saw a man, walking with his head bowed.

Bon Bon’s brows raised, and she sat back. They quickly set back into their tense knitting above her eyes as she cocked her head. Why, she asked.

Djimmi was picking his words carefully.

The man was walking with his head bowed, and with his hands tucked in his pockets. He was lonely, and very sick.

There was a soft gasp from across the table.

The Baroness demanded why the man was sick, scrutinizing him with a sharp gaze.

It seemed her suspicions of him being her mystery buyer was beginning to lift, though there was still the matter of Red...Djimmi disliked leading people on. He also disliked beating around bushes- those he protected received higher reluctance. He couldn’t lie, though. That was always his biggest downfall.

The genie frowned, moving his hands to hover to the sides of the crystal ball, as if afraid of letting it fall off of its ornate pedestal. As his silence remained and his gaze lingered, Bon Bon’s demanding streak waned. A frightful tightness began to pull at her ribs, stealing the air from her lungs and leaving her lost in a blizzard of tingling nerves. She drummed her fingers restlessly against the table, looking between him and the crystal ball with growing desperation.

She asked him. This man...was he Red? 

She had been so convinced that Djimmi had been him. Strong, charismatic, with a purring voice and no doubt endless riches...exotic skin...it was what her shop grunts had told her of their recent accounts…

She blinked as a pitfall of a revelation hit her.

Recent. The only descriptions she ever heard of Red in the flesh were from the last few months. Maybe a year or two at most. She had seen the receipts- she plundered the archives of her family’s clients. Red had been a faithful buyer for years...ever since she was cusping on the edge of her eighteenth birthday, so long ago…

She remembered that his first purchase was the week of her birthday. It had been such a good amount of coin that her father took the purchase to heart and gave the payment to her as free money to spend on what she liked. She remembered being so touched that someone loved the sweets her father had made as homage to her, his little princess, long before the day she took it upon herself to sign for that title...Bon Bon slowly pulled her hands back, balling them up and bringing her laced fists up to her pounding chest.

Red must have been the same age as she had been, for her father to allow the transaction- an older man buying candies made after her would have been too sleazy. Perhaps her conception of what a mysterious, dapper suitor with good tastes must be like was more out of touch than what she thought before.

She looked up to Djimmi again, forgetting all of her silly notions and asking him again, this time more of a pleading softness to her tone.

The man. Is he Red?

Her heart fell even further into her stomach when Djimmi nodded.

The genie was relieved, that she was more sophisticated than her boodthirsty madness betrayed at times. She was genuinely concerned about the wellbeing of his long-suffered friend. She also loved him, but if only she knew of his pain and frailty these days. He cleared his throat, and rumbled out a soft uttered tale while he saw the image in his mind that she could not.

_Many years ago, Red had been a dreamer. He had been a simple fella, tall and freckled and sporting a tamed mop of curls on his head that had given him his namesake. Red also lived an exhausting life, following the craft of mercantile from the salesmen in his family, but he never was truly happy with what he was destined to be. His father had been decent at his craft, as was Red’s grandfather, great grandfather, further and further down the line. The arts of acting and rapport were taught to him by long days of listening to plans at the dinner table and carrying heavy cases, as deep a part of him as was the honest heart that beat in his chest. He had been a born and raised actor into a world of bargaining._

_He was also a wandering soul who disliked confrontations. Often he stopped along the cafes and sit-ins along his routes, lingering there in his humble tweed suits and caps among the true working classes of the isles- carpenters, builders, delivery men, waitresses...people who had a set place with honest work; it was easier to share stories between bites and ale with kindred hearts, than it was to face rejection when disrupted neighbors chased him off their porches. Nothing had been wrong with his pitches and flourished presentations- he enjoyed talking with folk, learning of their dreams and interests but something just wasn’t right about using those cues to twist his shpiels towards their coin purses._

_That wasn’t what he stood for, as a natural socialite. The job slowly ate at his confidence over time, but food filled that void._

_He had been nineteen and four years into the game when he had removed his hat and nodded to the portly bearded man running a new candy shoppe on the corner. Sweets had always been his biggest weakness, and that day was one where he truly needed something sublime to perk his spirits. Everything had seemed to go wrong with a new pitch, and the bitching out from his father afterward about the money losses had been even more cutting than the snark of the client. But his troubles melted away like the chocolate between his fingers, the moment he was given a complimentary bonbon._

_The moment Red placed it between his teeth, it was like he was stepping into a world of pure imagination. He swore he could taste the colors on his tongue as the shope drowned itself out around him._

_The shopkeep chuckled, and offered another sample for a poor fella down on his luck. Red raised his brows at the flashy little thing, whipped and pink like a little candied princess. He was still trying to swallow down the first when he held the colorful confection in his hand, but was reluctant to try it even afterwards- it was just too cute._

_The confectioner explained they were a test batch he was making, in celebration of his daughter’s upcoming birthday, and as such were more than complimentary for the time being. Red scrutinized the delicate sweet, reluctantly biting into the intricate shell. To say it had been better than the first was a large understatement._

_They talked against the counter for what seemed like hours, with Red trying anything the shopkeep offered him. But none of the tarts and jellies and candy animals sat on the same pedestal of divinity as that pink little bonbon did. They talked about life, of Red’s job and the struggles he had, while the confectioner shared his own staggered beginnings raising his own dream up. The fatherly man placed his hand on the lad’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze and a nod of his head. He told him that it was more than reasonable, to follow one’s heart over the expectations of family- his daughter was a prime example, stubborn but respected for her desires._

_Red perked, growing a bit pink in the cheeks. It was uncouth to ask a man about his daughter outside of courting, but he was polite in not wanting to break the flow of their conversation. So, he squeaked out his question._

_What was she like?_

_The confectioner chuckled again, eyeing the freckled fella and the bonbon wrapper he was still delicately holding. Red’s reaction to the sweet wasn’t lost on his old eyes. The man described her briefly (as expected), but told that she had always been his beautiful little princess, elegant and prim beyond her years yet ferociously resisted the expectations the world had on a lady. Marriage and housekeeping had long been snuffed out in conversation, though he never once pushed it. She expressed she wanted to be a confectioner too, just like him and to the dismay of her mother._

_He noticed a twinkle in Red’s eyes, but said nothing of it. Surely it wasn’t every day a lad could hear stories of a proud and independent young woman. So, the shopkeep dropped the rest of the details, but mentioned that her eighteenth birthday was quickly approaching...and perhaps Red could come back to celebrate. The man stroked his beard as he feigned a stare of thought off to the side, but quirked a brow in amusement when mentioning that perhaps the redhead could learn a thing or two of finding his own drum beat to follow...and maybe have another of the extravagant bonbons to sample._

Djimmi paused in his story, looking across the table. Bon Bon’s gaze had long shifted away from the orb to focus on him, hands still to her chest and her own eyes twinkling the same way he remembered Red’s, of when he had found a revelation and inspiration for a new idea. The genie felt a bit stuffy under her intense stare, and tugged at his vest in a subtle effort to fan himself out. He asked her if she was alright.

The Baroness gave a brisk shake of her head to clear her thoughts, and cleared her throat. She asked him how he knew all of this, to which Djimmi felt more than comfortable in saying that he had known Red for many years. It wasn’t a surprising confession- as a free genie, he had hundreds of friends and acquaintances. In particular, they had met at a traveling bazaar once during one of Red’s pep-talk roaming streaks.

Djimmi removed his hands from their hover above the ball, reaching out to gently place his hand on her left that was now tapping restlessly against the table. She turned her head to the side to avoid his gaze, mumbling that she was alright when the question was prompted again. His hand was so warm...Bon Bon sighed, and giggled sheepishly. She confessed that her servants had made him out to be Red...Djimmi must have been a lucky guy to really know him. 

When they looked back at each other, the eternal madness was gone from her eyes. Instead, there was a flood of confusion and frustration penting up in them. Her hand curled into a fist against the wood, while she grit her teeth and growled. Her father had told her he didn’t know Red...that he couldn’t remember what he was like.

Djimmi squeezed her clenched hand, urging calmness back into her being. He knew the answer, but it was far too heavy for her ears to take in: the Devil’s influence extended far beyond his contracts. It seeped from his subjects out into the world, corrupting their lives in both obvious and subtle ways. Perhaps in time her own madness warped her father’s wellbeing in some way. The idea of memory being lost to another soul bothered him, as he continued his story.

_Red did not come to the event, after his family discovered his roaming habits. His father most of all had been furious, that his son was putting aside his work to galavant with girls and eat sweets when there was bread to be put on the table- no lazy brat of his was going to bear his name, so he made threats to keep Red away from that store, and the confectioner had nothing to say in the matter but to honor those wishes. Red never returned (under the hawkish eyes of his family), but in the months that followed there were purchases being made under his name for those bonbons. It had confused Bonnie’s father to see various lads and lasses picking up the packages with the same signatures on the ticket, but eventually caught on with a smile- perhaps the kid did remember their conversations. Bonnie hardly ever looked at the boring order slips anyway, so the mystery buyer never became an issue._

Djimmi chuckled softly, telling that he found it clever and admirable that Red never gave upon those candies, for he was so smitten by the idea that the lady inspiring their creation was one to his dreams too. The genie patted her hand, offering her a kindly smile. Red had always wanted to follow in her footsteps, away from a demanding family, a vicious father, disappointed mother and the looming despair that he was doomed to a son’s duty of honoring the family name. He wanted so much to be free like she had been, to voice his feelings and spend his days making people smile like her family’s did with their sweets. 

His smile did soften into a soft frown, however, and leaned back to look back into the ball.

_In the end, he did find his voice, but at the cost of losing his father to illness and his mother to her abandoning him for reasons of her own. He had been alone, but free. Red returned to the cozy little shop on the corner, but sank to his knees upon finding it was no longer there- the family had moved to a larger location, but to where he had no idea. The isles were huge when traveling on foot, but at that point his father’s presence had weighed so heavily on his mind and shoulders that he was too timid to seek out the confectioner and his cozy home. It had been a few years at that point, since their last meeting; it would be a shame on his part, stumbling back and looking no different than what he promised to be._

_So, he put the thought aside, but he never forgot her on his mind, and of her father’s words. Instead, Red sought out his own destiny, whatever it may be. Djimmi always had offered his aid, but every time he was politely turned down on it- Red was going to do things his own way, on his own feet and with his own power after so long. It was admirable, and the genie stood back in respect to show his support._

Djimmi paused again, tensing up as he swore he heard something outside the tent. Bon Bon ignored it, asking him what Red had done next. Her voice was tense with anticipation, of wanting to know what he did out of his love for her. Djimmi opened his mouth, but they died in his throat. They were running out of time.

Instead, he leaned to the side to start sifting through some items next to the table. He apologized, for their time was almost up. She straightened up and huffed, quickly billowing the fire in her tone as she demanded that he tell her, right now because the peasants outside can wait a bit longer. Djimmi shook his head, frantically pushing aside scrolls and silks to pick up something he had hid in there. Looking her firmly in the eye, he slipped what looked to be a thin book wrapped in parchment towards her.

He reluctantly wrapped up what he could with great haste.

He told her that Red had fallen very ill over the years, from his own choices and pushing himself too hard. Djimmi chose to not say that it was from Red’s love for her, for he became more and more frail every time he bought those bon bons as his mental health slipped. It was a tragic thing to watch, especially for someone so young. But perhaps keeping the mystery alive was good for her, and perhaps she would see the reasons why in time- her own madness over the years was dangerous. It would hurt Red greatly if they were to meet on the same level.

The genie closed his eyes, as Bon Bon curiously accepted the package. He expressed great sorrow in his words, that nothing was more painful than watching someone he loved slowly growing weaker and losing himself to his own frailty...and that due Red’s stubborness to not use Djimmi’s magic, there was nothing that could be done. At least...not overtly. Djimmi had tried discreetly healing him over the years, but something was there that prevented his aid from reaching. Red was in a safe place right now however, though he was not the same man, mentally and physically as he once was. Bon Bon should not have to experience such heartbreak as he saw it.

The Baroness was still tightening her brows, though her eyes were glossing over. She let go of the package and pushed it to the side, reaching out to this time grab the genie’s hands and take a deep breath for herself. She didn’t waste all this time to give up now. If this man clearly loved her then that shouldn’t be a sin to be kept hidden. She hissed out what she could on her ill-controlled breathing, that she was not going to give up on Red. 

She squeezed his hands and looked the magician in the eyes, giving him a firm nod. Djimmi hesitated, not returning the gesture but he seemed to understand. Not breaking her gaze, she removed one hand and slowly fumbled to find the package blindly while keeping him in her determined grip. 

She bristled when she felt another hand above hers on the paper. Djimmi looked first, freezing up completely as Bon Bon frightfully followed his gaze and gasped at the bright, hostile golden pair that was now staring her down.

Beppi’s gloved fingers tightened painfully around hers, tearing small holes in the parchment wrappings while he kept his head low and his teeth visible.

She never realized in all their years together that his canines looked sharp, almost wolfish. 

For wolves could very well eat sneaky little foxes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have any questions or comments? Drop me a line at my tumblr!
> 
> https://socks-on-parade.tumblr.com


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the fall comes a hope of redemption.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's day! I didn't want to wait much longer to write this, and the holiday felt very fitting as a time for the story to finally start moving onwards and upwards to happier things.
> 
> This chapter was intended to originally be a lot more dramatic and even aggressive in some parts, but I think it is a good opportunity to let these two instead have something hopeful to both hook onto.
> 
> Enjoy. :)

Over the years, she had heard Beppi utter out many sounds. He twittered to the birds perching on the strings of lights, and chittered out strange noises of glee whenever he found a favored snack. He spoke in cutesy tongues to his pets, though when she came around, his wild cackles always broke through the chaos faster than the blasts from her shotgun. He sang, he hummed, he purred and could produce a mean whistle.

Never once had she experienced the guttural snarls bubbling between his teeth.

She and Djimmi were frozen in place, trapped both in shame and fright at being caught. Her hand, still trapped beneath the clown’s, twitched with unfortunate anxiety. Beppi’s fingers tightened around her own like a vice, while he leaned in to regard her with such beastly a fury that it actually, truly terrified her. 

The visage reminded her of the devil’s grin, all those years ago when she lifted her own pen. 

Djimmi reacted first. He billowed up to his full height, crossing his arms and assuming the most aggressive stance he could manage. But even he shrank back down from the intense slam that Beppi employed with his free hand, hard around the crystal ball with enough grip to crack the surface under his palm. The genie bristled, shaking out a timid croon as he reached out in an attempt to soothe. Explain, apologize...anything.

The tent around them trembled with a will not of its own. The clown bristled to the point that his frill lifted in jagged patterns, and he swiped at the crimson hand he once held. A bark louder and deeper than his persona could ever produce had resonated through the enclosed space, demanding the genie’s exile before his fingers demanded blood. And through the madness of it all, underneath the playful colors and swimming inside the glassy brightness of his eyes Bon Bon could see it. The trembles ruffling his suit from the lean chest underneath. The welling shimmer of fluid building over and seeping into the thin folds of his lids. Bubbling inside the rigid cage of wrath was a wounded soul. Beppi was still clutching the damaged ball in one hand and her own in the other, staring at her as if nothing else made up the world around him...just like it had first felt like all those years ago, back when he was younger and stupid for thinking he could ever have a chance to live a life so joyous and loved like hers.

He held her gaze as the silence afterwards swallowed them. She had long felt the embers in her belly snuffed under the rigid chill of his haunting eyes; she felt trapped and helpless, even to the ancient wizard in the room. Djimmi watched them both in tense anticipation, hands up and at the ready for a powerful summons if need be. He slowly curled his fists in, seeing the gloved hand on the crystal ball slip. He lowered his fingers all together as Beppi slumped further down against the table.

Bon Bon felt a soft sigh escape her in relief, feeling the tension in his grip loosening. But, Beppi’s hand remained. His head hung from his shoulders, eyes drilling holes into the floor. She was about to pull her hand away, but gasped when a gentle squeeze came from his fingers.

It would perhaps be the only time in his life that he had the chance to finally hold her hand.

The clown pulled his digits away, eyes drifting up to regard the package still resting beneath her own. He took a deep inhale, which only shook his already trembling core. The command was simple, but carried the steel of a thousand knives.

Leave.

Against her greater judgement, Bon Bon did.

~*~

She could still see Djimmi’s face, clear as day in her mind as she rushed through the old dirt paths of the carnival, desperately kicking her legs harder to outrun the world behind her. 

Djimmi’s face, peering out from the dimness of the tent, hand outstretched as he moved before Beppi. The clown still had his back to them both. The Baroness had paused for only a moment in her flight, eyes widening as the his gloved hand reached up to grip the bangle on the genie’s wrist to yank it back down. She caught one fleeting look from the magician’s misty eyes before he sank back into the tent and closed the flap.

For a brief moment, the world numbed out all the noise in her ears as she stood there like a child, knees locked and clinging to the package like she had with her childhood toys. And then, the noise came back, and it terrified her.

The music, the whistles and buzzing, all mixing together in an almost nauseating cacophony of sounds on her pounding ears. The worst part was it all felt so out of place, in a realization that churned her stomach.

Paling, the Baroness realized that the entire park was completely empty.

Fingers shaking, she crinkled the abused wrapping on the package, eyes spinning slightly as she glanced down to gaze at it. Her thumb stroked over a bumpy section along the seams, where hot wax had lingered and seeped after the paper was folded. Her legs began to feel numb- the sounds were slowing down.

A piercing shriek jumped out of her when a strand of lights above her head had all burst at once.

Shards of glass and dying embers erupted through the night’s darkness while they rained down onto her, sounding off the beginnings of colorful, vivid chaos as the surrounding cords all around her began to tremble and shatter in to bright plumes of fire. 

Sensibly, she ran. She ran as far and as fast as her burning muscles could bring her, clutching the parcel close to her heart while dodging the bursting lights and the balloons which were next to join them. The path out was easily retraced by memory, open and away from rattling signs and the slamming of walls to carts which had served as shades. Bon Bon only had to look behind her once more to draw fresh courage into her lungs, eyes wide and wild at the sight of tents beginning to crumple like paper under the push of an unforeseen hand. By the time she had breeched the main entrance to the carnival, the esteemed Baroness was a panting mess.

Her feet began to stumble, one after another as if they were filled with cement. Her hands were shaking so badly that she almost dropped the package twice. Her sights caught on to a bench resting along an overlook to the harbor, to which she carried her trembling form to. Sitting upon the wooden slats was the easy part- trying to coax tranquility into her gasping lungs became the next challenge. 

Bon Bon refused to look behind herself, instead allowing her gaze to skim over the moonlit waves while focusing on nothing in particular. The package slipped from her crossed arms and tumbled into her lap. In a restless daze, her hands followed to begin pinching along the seams.

Distant golden eyes followed. Once upon a time, they had been a glittering rich green, like candied sugar over gumdrops. They studied the fresh tears on the paper, while her fingers slowly brushed and curled into the spots were his own had pierced the packing only minutes ago. Djimmi...he too was on her mind, trapped now in that madness while giving her the free chance to run.

Bon Bon’s eyes started to shimmer under the moon’s soft smile, and she hated the old sting behind them that she had long fought to forget.

It couldn’t be a hint, as to where her heart was fearing to pound- it was on the cusp of kicking up fresh imagery into her mind the more it raced with scenarios and possibilities, and it beat in powerful bursts so rowdy that her chest tightened in an almost suffocating pain from memories- faces to facts she was trying hard to fog up.

She tore into the package, pausing once to close her eyes and blink away the tears. When she opened them, a fresh batch began to trickle out.

There was a book in her lap, bound and weathered in an old red gloss. But it was the picture above it that caught her attention first and clutched her heart in a smoldering grip. She saw herself etched into the paper, beautifully penned in a posing that almost reminded her of stained glass, of herself to the side, looking up at a wondrous night sky glittering with stars and of a gentle silver moon. Her fingers traced quivering paths along the surface, feeling the grooves of the elegant lines and of the slight tarnish of oils rubbing off onto her tips. 

It was so...beautifully done. In so simple a way, she could envision a story behind it, of beauty and splendor, peace and tranquility. The side profile and the missing chunks of moon hinted at something odd, in that overall presentation felt...incomplete. As if there was something to be mirrored but never came to fruition. Bon Bon slipped her fingers beneath the picture while her thumb helped pinch it, raising the paper up to the night sky so that she could compare its beauty to the real canvas twinkling above her. Her eyes squinted again.

She felt something sleek and glossy on the other side.

Bon Bon lowered the drawing with a teary squint, and flipped it over.

It was an old photograph, grainy through the course of time but still legible enough to be gleaned. She saw two figures, one unmistakingly Djimmi and his loveable affections. The genie still looked the same as he always had, looping an arm around a younger man who in turn was proudly holding up what looked to be a deed of sorts- it had to have been related to the plot of land behind them, filled with piles of wood and cans, trunks and carts. Bon Bon held the picture closer, taking in the features of the mystery figure. Her heart began to thunder louder and stronger in her chest.

A soft bed of curls, attempted to be tamed from the way he had combed them...a kindly smile, boyish eyes filled with overwhelming happiness...she took in his lean nature and the cute pointed tip of his nose, though her eyes lingered on his own.

The more that she looked into them, the more her own stung. The next time she blinked caused her tears to crash onto the old moment in time, already lost to years of faded forgottenness.

The Baroness struggled to maintain herself, to remember her pride and dignity under the welling power of her sobs. She clutched the paper, bringing it up to her forehead as she cried and trembled like the cruel, horrid coward she had become. A tyrant, who fed off the joy of others.

Her thumb crinkled the old gloss of the picture, almost stamping its imprint onto an old caption scribbled at the bottom:

_“Djimmi ‘The Great’ and Red Carnigi- A fresh start to sweet new affairs”_

A low humming, deep and trembling, quivered through the earth behind her. Sniffling, the Baroness slowly lowered the picture and rubbed at her eyes, caring not for how smeared her makeup must have become as she turned to finally glance back. A fresh pang of shame ripped through her nerves as she placed her free hand upon her chest.

For the first time in twenty years, the carnival had grown as dark and silent as the grave.

~*~

Her father had been waiting for her by the time she managed to drag herself home, pacingg in the parlor with once-hot tea and cold biscuits. He adjusted his frock coat while standing to greet her, twitching his beard and exhaling out in relief that she was finally home and how worried he was and why did she look so out of breath-

The old man wasn’t expecting the shove of defiance that overrode his hug.

He stumbled back against the fireplace, holding his hands up in defense as she stormed up, screaming at him for accusations he would have never dreamed of. Lying? A boy? Him??? The confectioner had always been a man of honor and humbleness, and he always had instilled in her the same values. Clearly, they never stuck.

He stood up to his full height, tugging on his lapels and booming back that he did not raise his daughter to be so demanding and accusatory. His next words died in her throat as she shoved the paper against his chest. Dumbly her father stood, blinking to adjust his focus as she held the picture close to study it. By the time it was lowered and she saw his eyes, Bon Bon could see a startled spark in them.

She gave him no time to explain himself, next pushing the book into his hands. How could he not remember? How did he “forget” the face of that man in the picture? She demanded he open it, and she insisted if he had the gall to keep lying to her about the journal entries inside, he could be her guest before she had his ass kicked out and fed to the cinnamon spiders in her dungeon.

The old man sputtered, opening the book to set the picture against the back of the first page. He studied the face again, squinting hard to confirm his suspicions.

That face....it looked familiar. Bon Bon crossed her arms, bristling. She didn’t believe that. How. Could. He. Not. Remember. The grey badger had lied to her all these years, for what? What could he possibly gotten out of all this, turning away a man who had loved her since the beginning. Did he not remember all those events written in the journal. _WHY WAS HE LYING TO HER._

All of these sentiments she shrieked out, smacking away a dish of scones after he clumsily shifted the documents into an arm in an attempt to grab them. Bon Bon advanced on him, balling her fists and demanding again, louder and with wet anger cracking her voice and through her eyes.

She remained unconvinced, even when he belted back again, for the upteenth time, that he had no firmmemory of Red. He remembered the name. He remembered hazy pieces of a young man wandering in and trying his sweets...he could remember a few exchanges, the more he looked at the picture and furrowed his brows and turned pages and read the dates and key words scrawled throughout them...but in the end, he sighed and closed the book before offering it back to her. 

He couldn’t remember Red in his entirety. His old eyes beseeched her to understand. He wanted to. Seeing the face and connecting the dots only provided so much before his memories faded again, just before anything seemingly important was just about to cusp...key words...a name here and there...a few quirks of the boy…the order slips he remembered the most- he archived them all and shrugged them off as another loyal customer...but what was there of importance that she was so worked up over? 

They stared at each other in tense silence, him offering the papers back while the tension fueled his anger. His hands shook and his voice rose against his normal patience, demanding to her now why it mattered, again, in what she thought of some man with a color for a name.

“IT MATTERS BECAUSE I THREW HIS CAKE INTO HIS FACE.” She shrieked out words that pierced his memory forevermore. 

He held out his arms again, braced and wide eyed as she yanked the book from his hands and clutched it close to her heart, repeating the same words again with more venom digging into herself as Bon Bon, the proud queen of candy, began to crumple slowly to the floor as fresh sobs rippled up from her belly. Again and again the words were uttered, each time more broken and warbled than the last while she let years of her own frustrations burst from her with every shaking sob. Years of anger, jealousy, selfishness, vanity…

Red hadn’t done a single damn thing to ruin her business and muddy her name. He had, in his own descent into the Devil’s games of madness, remembered his love for her so much that he paid her for a chance to enjoy a small, expensive little portion of herself that was all he was ever going to get...and for five years, he had gladly paid the toll, but only after years of attempted jokes, performances and gifts to her had backfired horribly into his face.

Buying the bon bons had been a desperate, last resort to reach out and prove that he was still there, crying out for her attention through the thick purses of coin for only a few samples of sweetness on his tongue.

And now, the one dream he sold his soul for, inspired by her once-happiness, lay dark and silent like a slain behemoth near the bay.

Her father watched and listened to her sobs, reaching out to try and comfort, to try and understand and remember, but Bon Bon never gave him that chance to make contact. She smacked his hand away and hissed that he will be dealt with later. She had a library’s worth of redemption to make up.

~*~

It was hard to tell, what had been going through her mind as more and more revelations began to push and strain her thoughts until all that was left just stung of numbness.

A thick wave of bitterness and guilt squeezed at her heart, as the Baroness stalked through the castle towards the stairwell leading high up into her chambers. Even her servants kept a wide berth- even the castle trembled ever-so-gently beneath her feet. But the moment her boot touched the first step did it leave to return to its partner. Bon Bon clenched the book and her free fist as she glared down at the ascending stones, furiously rubbing away the tears that had long reddened her eyes.

No more running away.

Like it or not, she had been in love with him all along, even if it was of a memory that no longer walked this world. Current feelings be damned, there was one thing her father was right about. He didn’t raise her, his princess, to be a tyrant.

Her eyes were distant again, staring straight ahead without direction as she prowled down the corridors and through smaller rooms, until she was standing once more in the sickening humbleness of the family storefront in the visitor’s area. She stared ahead, right at the door where once upon a time, in another section of the island he had once come through to taste new sweets and ask about specials. Slowly, she turned to look at the circular display case atop the glass counter, showcasing what else but those damned, damned bonbons that seemed to mock her now in their frilly, princessy design.

She hitched her breath, thinking of how he must felt the moment he first laid his eyes on them, so long ago.

Bon Bon could hear footsteps briskly approaching from down the hall, just outside of the kitchen connected to the shop front to the castle.

Without even spending a moment to trace out a sensible plan, she dropped the book onto the counter and threw her hand out.

By the time her father arrived, all he heard as the slamming of the storefront door. He stumbled behind the counter from the doorway, pausing at the sight of the book, the picture poking out beneath, and a crack in the lid to the fishbowl display.

~*~

The carnival was quiet. The darkness had swallowed up all the joy and warmth that had fought against it for years.

Beppi’s eyes were as glassy as the broken orb he had chipped during his rage, but he still stared at it with hopes that it would impart on him some mystical wisdom it was known for.

Djimmi was long gone. He had made good on bitching the coward out with an army of balloon dogs snarling up his backside. The guests where gone; he had them evacuated during his prowl towards this defiled space. In the heart of the circus was where he sat, bleeding out the final drops of hope and care he had held onto for years, staring into a chunk of carved glass with fleeting desperation that perhaps, if he held onto the last few seconds…

…

...Everything was gone. 

He closed his eyes, leaning against the table. The remaining lit candles flickered from the impact, but resumed their carefree dances as he turned his attention to watch them.

She had been like a fire, entrancing to the eye and yet singing at his heart every time he tried to...to…

Beppi exhaled heavily, slumping further down until his chin was resting upon an outstretched arm.

Djimmi was like a fire too, warm and nourishing…

He was finding it hard to feel anything but affirmation that things simply just happened and he was a fool for believing in wonder.

The clown hiccuped, and realized it was the first trembling weep that his gut had been straining to hide with every painful breath he took in. Another came, this time longer and croaked while Beppi strained his lungs to try and stay composed. He didn’t even hear the flap behind him open.

Tired eyes sluggishly moved to make out a small object entering his right peripheral. They took a moment to tighten their focus, and he winced and jumped up a moment later. Beppi blinked, and rubbed at his eyes to chase away any cruel tricks playing with his vision.

But it was still there when he looked again, sitting in its prim little wrapper and glittering under the dim flames through the dusting of sugar crowning its top. Pink whipped, diced strawberry...Beppi sat up all the way, feeling his throat tighten.

His brows furrowed next. Anger should be rational. He should have slammed his hand down on the cruel little thing...but there was no more energy for that. It had all been cried out after the circus died under his painful command. Instead he sat there, staring at it dumbly while his hands dove to his lap and wrang themselves into tight numbness.

His stomach twisted itself into a balloon animal, seeing her coming into his view... directly to his side at the table.

Bon Bon kept her hands to herself, as she did her words, and swallowed her breath in unison with his as they looked at the candy that started it all.

It was like the moments before a western shootout. It was the few steps before the heel-turn to ready the pistols.

Together, they sat in painful, tight silence. He stared straight ahead, while she closed her eyes. What to say, how to act. He chased her away, and she came back. She ruined his life, and here she was. He danced through her madness for years, and the dancer was right by her side. She had been foolish, but royalty should equate to honor above all.

Finally, noise pierced the suffocating quiet.

“...Red?”

She felt his breath hitching beside her. Quickly, slightly, she turned her head to catch his expression. It looked sharp for a moment as it stared ahead, but became confused again, just as fleeting. It sank her heart further. 

He really was lost...but she wasn’t, in his mind.

Swallowing again, the Baroness looked down at her folded hands, tapping her fingers on top of each other.

“I...knew a girl once. She loved an orchard picker.”

She licked her lips, listening for a response. Nothing. She continued.

“She was the apple of his eye. And he liked to...sit be-cider.”

She was terrible at puns, but it was one she heard him once say, as a joke to a lad who had purchased a candied apple for his gal.

When the silence dragged on, she found herself gritting her teeth and wrenching her eyes shut and brows so tight they could have been the pressure hitting her molars. The pain of the quiet was killing her...and then she heard it. A small chuff that sounded like a wheeze...maybe a small chuckle. Even listening for a possible second was painful. Her breathing became too labored to keep subtle.

Bon Bon’s shoulders lurched as fresh weeping claimed her yet again that night, remembering everything for him.

She felt so alone in her tears, for all of the terrible things she has done out of her own warped bitterness and jealousy. She deserved this. She deserved all of this and more.

What she didn’t expect was a warm hand cupping her shoulder, gently guiding her in to let her head rest against his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions or comments? Check out my blog or my new discord server! Information on both is at the bottom of chapter one. :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like the dawn, new beginnings bring new journeys.
> 
> Like affection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The true Valentine's Day chapter I had been hoping for, just a bit later. 
> 
> As I like to experiment (as many have commented on my choice for dialogue), I wanted to make this chapter extra special to capture the transition between these two into something more wonderful. So, I took one of my favorite songs and added its lyrics to be a background presence reflective of the environment.
> 
> Bold/Italics= Beppi's sentiments, while Italics= Bon Bon's.
> 
> As always, I thank you all for your support. Without kind readers, I wouldn't have a story to share. The comments, kudos, bookmarks, tumblr questions and all that mean the world to me. Thank you!

After the embrace had parted, the first thing they did was look at one another.

Once upon a time, and even a few hours prior, Bon Bon had been truly convinced that she had hated everything about Beppi. From the way his voice could tilt into teeth-gritting octaves or the bubbly little bounce to the way he walked...the clashing of those bright colors and the boyishness of his charms…

Beppi’s brow raised, as her gaze softened and jaw slackened.

...Bitter feelings aside, there was a rather goofy charm to his presentation. She blinked, and looked aside while sweeping her fingers underneath stained eyes. She couldn’t remember how many times tears had smeared her makeup this evening. The Baroness bit her bottom lip, shaking her head- the gesture was to her own foolishness, and she hoped that the clown would understand it wasn’t directed at him.

He truly was a master at acting. Bon Bon had been shamelessly fooled for many years that he had been her rival, teasing her with his pranks and yet dancing just out of her suspicions with his ulterior motives. Beppi had perfected the goofball act so well that seeing now, in this moment, all his years of sweet gifts and courting attempts…

She was reminded of the handsome young man still smiling in the picture, with his hopeful bright eyes and wide boyish grin. 

Bon Bon wished she had brought it with her. She wanted to lay it before him and have him look at the man he once was- what he had given up in his inspiration to have a better life. What had been in the Devil’s contract, to rip out a man’s identity as a sick joke? In due time, she would know the parameters.

What stung the hardest, was that he forgot himself, out of her presence motivating his drive to succeed.

As the Baroness turned to look at him, she felt her breath dying in her lungs. Those wild golden eyes, so burned into her memory for being flashy and sharp, were instead gentle and timid as he watched her. Beppi was playing with his gloves, rotating his fingers around each other in cyclic anxiousness while he looked her over. Even as she had been crying, Bon Bon was just as beautiful as the first time he had ever laid eyes on her- something tightened within him during her sobs. She needed to be protected.

Just having her here, crying over _him_...it had killed any resentment and violence his wounded heart had been churning.

His thoughts were also running, distracting his focus like hers had been. He jumped in his spot the moment her hand placed itself on his fidgeting pair. He wanted nothing than to move his hands to enclose her own, but he couldn’t do it. Not after everything that had just happened. Instead, he glanced up towards the ceiling of the tent, seeing the carnival outside in his mind. The chaos he set forth burst from the fury among his tears, killing the world he had created to find his joy so many years ago. His thoughtful pout chilled Bon Bon’s nerves, so unused to seeing anything but a smile along his lips.

She too followed his motions, looking up as well. She visualized the stars twinkling far above them in the sleepy cosmos, and recalled the drawing of the princess looking up at the dreaming moon. Distracted, her hand gave a light squeeze against his own- the involuntary grasp startled her. Bon Bon coughed while pulling her arm back.

She wondered if the knot growing in her throat was present in his own.

The quiet in the room seemed to shift around them, lifting the tense haze and dissolving it into a wistful sanctuary; it was the type of silence one could hear a piano in, lulling and pondering. 

They couldn’t spend the rest of the night in this spot, however. Beppi was the first to move, keeping his head forward as he stiffly pushed himself up onto his feet. Bon Bon raised her brows at his offered hand, searching his eyes for acceptance to her being so close to him. He hadn’t chased her away yet. Likewise, her own madness had burned away from her ashened heart.

She accepted it.

It was more proper to loop an arm around his own in the aftermath of their ageless animosity, so that was the option Bon Bon opted for. They both stepped out in unison, pausing at the dark and lifeless circus around them.

It spoke immense volumes of his power, how well this place reacted to his emotions. Bon Bon would have shivered from realizing how much he had truly held back on her during their past fights...if she wasn’t tensing her shoulders in shame. She too had manipulated her own world so easily, like a dictator. Her castle, her grounds, sugary servants brought to life from her own hands...The Baroness lowered her head as they walked, feeling creeping guilt dragging her heels like angry vines from the lonely earth.

He had put his power into making others smile. She had manipulated hers into a world of fake happiness.

All because she had been so fed into the paranoia that his business was going to ruin hers. That he was going to taunt her with his success.

Bon Bon stopped in her tracks, staring at the ground.

“Everything is my fault.” 

Her words rung through the night. Beppi lurched ahead, looking back at her in confusion. His brows knitted atop his eyes with great concern, breaking the chain their arms had linked to in order to reach out for her shoulder. She placed her hand on his own, silencing the protests he started to make.

“It is. My kingdom, my servants, my...anger,” A growl of frustration bubbled up from her throat as she stepped back and away from his comforts. Bon Bon shook her head with tightly shut eyes. “...I signed away my soul because…” She balled her fists, but try as she might, she couldn’t say it. She couldn’t say those words, right to his face.

For the first night in ages, she thought of Beppi’s wellbeing before her own.

The Baroness covered her face in her hands, body trembling and heaving in a strained attempt to try, yet again, to not break down on herself tonight. 

“The cake...the things I’ve broken, this circus!” She threw her arms out and spun to look at all of the broken lights and crumpled structures. “I...I broke and hurt everything...everyone…I hurt you.” Her eyes were glassy as they found him in her spinning stance and among her thoughts. “Because I was so...angry. I’ve been angry, for so. Long…” Filthy earth be damned, it was where she belonged as she sank onto her knees, rubbing her face again while taking a deep breath to control her breathing. “And I can’t remember why anymore…”

The footsteps were expected- she knew he wouldn’t stay away from her. Clowns cared too much.

She had anticipated herself to cry. Instead, her breath shook itself out of her and her muscles loosened as his warm arms wrapped around her from behind. Beppi had his chin along her shoulder, while his knees shifted against her backside after kneeling became too uncomfortable.

“I’ve ruined things too.” The seriousness in his voice scared her. He looked around at the empty space around them, mourning all the fairgoers he had chased out in his own broken rage. He missed Djimmi; he hated himself, for shrieking at the genie like the stubborn brat he had been.

Bon Bon could feel his heartbeat, thundering against her back and through the lean muscles beneath the colorful fabric that smelled so wonderfully of funnel cakes and cotton candy. She took in his scent while he secretly did the same, never realizing how soothing and familiar it was to her nose. Likewise, she reminded him of sweet apples and the playful bite of cinnamon and sugar.

“No longer.” She uttered after a few minutes of comforted silence between them. To his surprise she nudged back against him, and the clown took her cue to start breaking away to stand. Bon Bon accepted Beppi’s hand once again, but let go of it once she returned to her feet. His hold was firm yet gentle, she noted.

~*~

The first thing they focused on was repairing the strands of lights. As expected of any owner, Beppi had an impressive stock of supplies to keep his territory smoothly running. He led her to a back end of the fairgrounds which was fenced off for safety standards, directing her to stand back as he worked on retrieving the right box from the massive stack of crates and carts piled up. Oddly enough, he had employed a purple gorilla in a red fez to man the stockpile; the large ape tipped his hat to his employer, climbed out of his carriage in the corner, and began scaling the mountain while Beppi looked back at Bon Bon with a shrugging smile.

Baffled as she was, the Baroness couldn’t help but smile back as she folded her hands.

Once the appropriate box was located, the gorilla unloaded it onto a wheeled cart, which was promptly pushed away by the green penguins now donning frills and clown paint. Bon Bon squinted at them as they waddled past; this was the last time she was going to put effort into training gummy animals.

She and Beppi followed behind them, this time keeping their arms to themselves. Once the first strands were reached, Beppi had cracked open the box (with a conveniently placed crowbar sticking out of it) and pulled himself up to begin fishing through the tangled mass inside while his waist downwards hung out over the edge. He almost fell in after she surprised him by grabbing his ankles for support. Bon Bon rolled her eyes, but her smile grew just a bit larger.

She shut down his intentions to replace the strands, citing that it was her muddling that had prompted his emotions on the matter. She wanted to redeem herself now. Anxiously he stood below her after the box had been sealed so she could stand upon, up onto the toes of her summer boots as she fiddled with unscrewing the first broken bulb in the line. The penguins were also watching their old mistress, keeping the wheels locked so that the cart didn’t lurch underneath her.

The dreamy tranquility of the silence began to thicken the air again. Beppi too could imagine the softness of a piano, tiny and fleeting in his own mind like the graceful chimes of a music box. As he watched, his heart swelled, admiring the proud, independent woman fixing what she had broken. His mind began to drift away, carried away by ever-present feelings of longing and fortune.

**_She’s got a way, about her…_ **

He slowly circled around the cart, keeping his gaze protectively set upon her vulnerable form.

**_I don’t know what it is._ **

Beppi paused on the other side, hands thrusted into his pockets as he looked up at her face, forming a small twitterpated smile as he took in her knitted concentration.

**_But I know that I can’t live without her._ **

He was fortunate. Fortunate beyond words.

Once the first light was fixed, Bon Bon carefully toed to the edge of the box to be able to reach up for the second. The penguins warbled beneath her as they scrambled to unstick the wheels, but their new owner beat them to it. The Baroness jerked in surprise at the feeling of something grabbing at her shins, looking down with bated breath only to see Beppi keeping a careful grip on her. They caught each other’s gaze and he broke it immediate after, glancing away anxiously after realizing that if he took a few steps closer, he’d see the bloomers slightly higher up on her legs. Bon Bon chuffed in amusement, but was touched at his modesty.

She didn’t realize the reluctance in moving her gaze back up, beginning to tweak the second bulb out of its holder as she too began to muse on things.

_He’s got a way of pleasing._

She paused after pricking herself by accident, and felt her cheeks burn as his grip tightened slightly around her legs.

_I don’t know what it is._

She found it hard to piece together his reckless and childish persona with the gentle soul keeping an eye out below her feet. It was jarring almost...but in a good way. A trusting way.

_But there doesn’t have to be a reason, anyway._

Logic in a carnival was for the pomp and stuffy, after all.

One by one, the lights were replaced while the cart was carefully maneuvered beneath her. It took great effort, though through all that was said and done, Bon Bon’s triumphant smile waned; she had been up on this box for longer than a few minutes, judging from the strain in her arms and lower back from all the shifting, tweaking and replacing of just one strand. And there were still many more. 

She huffed, placing her hands on the hips of her summer dress. Well, time to get going to the next.

Bon Bon looked down from her perch, gritting her teeth at how painful she was anticipating the landing if she were to jump in her current footwear. The decision was made for her, after Beppi held his arms out for her with a hopeful smile. If her blush hadn’t already been long smeared away, the Baroness would have banked on her blushing to be hidden beneath it. Still…

Beppi pleased her again, by keeping his gaze from looking up the hem of her dress as he reached up to carefully grab her by the outside of her thighs once Bon Bon scooted far enough to sit on the edge of the box. As he lowered her, he looked up at her gorgeous face, and felt his cheeks burn beneath the paint as she too was regarding him with a gentle, amused smile.

**_She’s got a smile, that heals me._ **

He lowered her until they were face to face, but he felt the drumming of his heart before he did of her fingers gripping his shoulders for support.

**_I don’t know why that is._ **

Maddened as he had been even then, the candied queen had made a perfect track record over the years of turning down every clownish attempt he made at taking her hand, and she spat in his directions many times before before the inevitable wallops began. It was almost like walking in a dream right now, to see the ferocious Baroness so gentle and just as anxious as he was.

He loved it.

Bon Bon raised a brow while holding her smile, as he wheezed out a giddy, small giggle.

**_But I have to laugh when she reveals me._ **

She also glanced away, swallowing to try and silence the fast pattering of her own heart. He was so wonderfully sweet. Why hadn’t she seen it all this time? If love was blind, then Baroness Von Bon Bon had been the blindest lady in the land to not have recognized his intentions all along.

Once her feet were on the sweet earth again, she looked with him to observe all the many more strands of broken lights hanging in somber darkness above the path before them. They both glanced at each other, before Bon Bon was the first to move with a confident waving of her hand. They have more time.

Beppi naturally caught up to her with a familiar spring to his step, nattering along with renewed vigor at how many more were left, the logistics of teamwork and if they were to fix them all tonight, then perhaps he could work alone on the ones dotting the signs and attractions since many of those were high up and dangerous and…

He didn’t ramble on much further than that, but Bon Bon knew the reasoning well. And it made her giggle softly in a way that she could hear the unmistakable gasp, tiny as it was, squeaking out of him as he registered it.

Look at him, the gallant protector.

_He’s got a way, of talking._

Machismo inspired, his chatter revved back up again, gesturing and nudging against her gently as they walked side by side. It was soothing, hearing his famous energy rebuilding itself inside of him again.

_I don’t know what it is…_

Normally, the noise and incessance of it all had driven her batty over the years, but the fans loved it. They loved the corny jokes, the way he spiked the speed in his tone to amuse fairgoers with his spiels and his ability to turn every random thought possible into a hilarious story worth smiling for. Beppi loved to talk, and his performance was working on her just as it had done for all the other spectators that had been in her place. And this time, she kept her smile as his reasons for various light changing techniques became more and more ridiculous.

_But he lifts me up when we are walking._

For the rest of the strands, they both took turns with their counterpart inspecting the other. By the time the pathway lights were all replaced, the faintest hints of pink began to crawl upon the horizon. Bon Bon was still very much energized to really notice the implications, as was Beppi. At the mouth of the carnival, standing under the very first rope of shimmering bulbs, she felt like a child at heart again. She remembered the first time she looked out the window of the original candy shop, seeing the first strings of lights being hung up on their posts or hitched into the sides of new tents being prepped up. 

Her eyes were twinkling as she looked at their handiwork. The rest of the signs needed their bulbs replaced, the stands had to be opened again, the rubbish from fallen rubbish bins cleaned up, the rides up and running again...but it was a start. Her breath caught in her throat, just looking at the simple beauty of flickering yellow orbs taking first sips of sweet electricity above the pink beginnings of the dawn sky.

Even in its quiet, crumpled state, she could remember how beautiful a carnival can really be.

Beppi stood beside her in silent vigil, keeping quiet to give her all the time she needed to look around. It was a moment of pride for him watching her look so invested in a state of childish wonder at what his home could offer, if only it were to open up once more...he paused, as the clouds in his mind began to lift.

He could see it again, from way back in a forgotten time that had long slipped his memory, of when he stood before the empty plot that would become the location of his dream. Beppi’s eyes softened despite the hardened furrow his brows had formed, recalling the crates of fabric and rods still stacked about, of the same strings of lights being brought out and fitted for their new posts. He could remember the chatter of workers and volunteers in the island’s community in that antiquated time, coming forth and grabbing items and tools to help set up the tents and the structures…

At some point, he had fallen so deeply into the pits of revelation that he didn’t even feel the curious rubbing Bon’s hand had left on his arm, as she had taken notice of his lost gaze. She waved the penguins off when they started waddling up to squawk for their next task, though took a moment to part her lips in surprise when they actually took heed of her and reluctantly stumbled back to their positions. 

The morning was still young. In the blossoming beginnings of a fresh day, they can take a new walk together to drink it all in.

She carefully grabbed him by the elbow, beginning to tug gently in order to uproot him from his spot. Dumbly, Beppi began to follow, his mind still swimming in the pool of old memories. The more he walked behind her, the faster his eyes began to snap back into focus, blinking and regarding the back of her head in confusion while trying to mentally catch up to the present.

And just like that, the memories all faded back into the mist.

Confused, he questioned where she was taking him; this was his domain, after all. He knew it well. All he received in return was a small chuff telling the clown to stop talking and let her figure it out.

Beppi huffed, but cocked his head curiously while looking down at her hand gripping his sleeve. What had she been doing moments before…? He couldn’t recall. A small grunt of exasperation escaped him, drowning in a strange seriousness that had been welling up within him ever since his relationship with her had begun to spiral as of late. What sort of bizarre effect did she have on him?

The longer they walked along the old trodden cobblestone path, the more Beppi let his frustrations vent out in a series of small hums. It was an old melody that those quartet singers were fond of, whenever they pooled right outside the bayside entrance to sing under the sunshine like the little songbirds they were. The whimsical tune only exemplified her beauty, the longer he looked at her primped hair and took in the sweet scent of her enchanted persona.

Of course, what made his knees weaker was the fact she was leading him somewhere, and had a gentle hold on his suit.

**_She comes to me, when I’m feeling down._ **

The moment Bon Bon turned to look back at him, Beppi’s stomach shot up to his ribcage. Stars above, her soft doe eyes under the shine of the morning sun…

**_Inspires me, without a sound…_ **

Like an excited buck, he hopped up in his place and took a few prancing steps to catch up to Bon Bon’s side like a true gentleman should. She smiled up at him in silent amusement, as if to say _“Finally”_ with just a swish of her hair alone. Her hand gripped his sleeve a bit tighter as a gust of cool morning air caught her by surprise. By instinct, he nudged himself closer to protect her pride once she realized how silly her reaction had been.

**_She touches me, and I get turned around, oh…_ **

They both shared a sheepish, quiet laugh together.

She started to turn them off the expected path, not towards the divination tent again but to the left towards the ferris wheel. To Beppi, the assumption made his palms sweat beneath his gloves. Slow, almost romantic, even...and then they went right past it, to which Bon swore she heard him curse under his throat. Oddly to herself, she found the reaction to be rather adorable.

Instead, by memory alone of directions outside of the grounds, she was leading him to a more personal spot. There was a grand park in the center of the island, and she recalled having a portion of it being tailored during the construction of the carnival to be a side entrance into it. It was quiet, simple and much more appropriate to their current situation than walking around goofy posters or brightly painted machines, in her opinion. 

She stole glances to the side the closer they approached, to see if he was piecing together of where she was taking him. True to his nature, his expressions seemed to change every time she looked his way.

_He’s got a way of showing…_

Like a confused puppy, even. It took Bon Bon a few moments to realize she was smiling again.

_How I make him feel…_

She pouted and blinked, feeling the rush of heat pooling into her cheeks again. Quietly, she looked ahead, hoping that the clown didn’t notice.

Inwardly, her nerves were on fire.

_And I find the strength to keep on going._

Despite the tingling in her legs, she pushed onwards while her free hand squeezed in a fist to vent her anxiousness.

Before them was the park, simple in its circular presentation but grand enough with the placement of wrought iron benches around a large, gorgeous tree with multicolored branches. She had intended to keep her grip on him until they reached one of the seats, but the Baroness had her hand slip from the warm fabric of the suit as she stood beside the clown with equal awe at the sight ahead- she didn’t remember the last time she saw fireflies.

There must have been hundreds of them, hovering among the scattered bushes but clustered especially around the ancient tree. They darted among the leaves, producing a kaleidoscope of a light show among the differing hues and dancing between the gaps. Underneath the growing sorbet glow of the morning sun did they mingle and flicker, sending their last messages to the stars above before it was time to take their leave back to the grasses for another day.

Entranced, Bon Bon’s first response was not to rush up to the display, but to look back to gauge Beppi’s response. He too was rooted in place, staring at nature’s performers with a boyish sense of wonder on his face. She reached out to nudge him, citing him a dummy for not coming closer like she was going to do. Perhaps a bit of a challenge could rile him up like always…

Bon Bon was surprised to see his steps resembling more of a shuffle, as if he were timid to disrupt the light show. It was another thing she was so unused to seeing in a man who only knew fast and breakneck as his two speeds. Shrugging to herself, the Baroness wasn’t going to squander the opportunity now that she dragged him here. The benches can wait.

Quiet and slow, she approached the swarm. The effect was instantaneous: startled by the natural sweetness of her scent, the insects began to zigzag through the air as they moved their masses to hover around her. The fireflies hovered above the soft bounce of her hair and around her exposed arms, detecting the different tones in her scent while a few brave individuals chose to curiously land upon her. Beppi watched, bewitched.

**_She’s got a light, around her._ **

The clown was honestly expecting her to jump and hiss, to swat and swear and protest like she always did when she always wanted things done her way. She didn’t. Instead, Bon Bon stood as still as she could, jerking periodically under the tickling of tiny legs skittering over her skin or buzzing against her ears, finding the comfort in dropping her reputation act to giggle softly at the antics of the tiny animals. Eventually, she took a few steps to see if the swarm would follow.

Like bees to a flower, they most certainly did.

**_And everywhere she goes…_ **

Swallowing his own nerves, Beppi slowly took his approach. 

She turned in her place to regard him, batting her lashes and reaching up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind and ear. Beppi paused.

Surrounded by the thousand glow of the fireflies and basked under a striking symphony of colors from the morning-cast tree, it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

**_A million dreams of love surround her._ **

**_Everywhere._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments or questions? Check out my blog and the link to my discord on it:  
> Socks-on-parade.tumblr.com
> 
>  
> 
> The song in question is "She's Got a Way" by my favorite singer, Billy Joel. 
> 
> Take a listen to it on Youtube if you want even more of those sweet vibes. :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Opposites can attract very sweetly. Trust falls make everything better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting sweeter hereon out, folks. I absolutely loved writing this chapter. :)

Looking out from her balcony, it was so surreal to see the carnival in a quiet peace.

A day had passed since the beginnings of her peace offerings, and already Beppi had rigged all of the lights back up into working order. Beneath the fresh glitter of the new night’s stars, his kingdom shined as if it had never been snuffed. There was something eerie about the silence, however.

The carnival was still closed to the public as he made his repairs. Under previous circumstances, in the depths of her old tyrannical mind, she would have been pleased to be witness to his lone efforts in his decimated home. Upon recent revelations, however, Bon Bon’s heart sank at the poor bastard’s plights.

She crossed one arm over the other against the rail, exhaling heavily as she rested her chin upon them. Beneath her, the concerned rumbles of her castle vibrated up her legs. The Baroness managed a small smile and shifted to rub along the striped banister to soothe the sentient fortress. 

Throughout the night, she had bared witness to the crumpled tents slowly regaining their proud spires and rounded domes. Over the last few hours of tom peeping, she had heard the beginning hisses and screeches of machinery kicking back to life from the mightiest of his attractions. Once upon a time, Bon Bon had been in a similar dreamy haze, watching with wonder from a distance and yet so shy to approach. More than ever, the latter feeling pooled in the pit of her stomach; Beppi had been more than amicable to her yesterday in resetting the lights, but there was still many years of animosity towards him that she had yet to make up for.

Bon Bon sighed again, and lifted herself up to return to her room.

Summer was at its peak, so the nights were still nipped with residual heat among the cooler winds. The Baroness changed into another lighter, shorter gown reminiscent of an inverted tulip. She smoothed out the folds of the skirted portion and pushed up the lace of her bodice while her mind began to wander- seeing herself in the mirror was almost sickening. Bon Bon paused, right as her hands were reaching up to adjust her hair was the moment her eyes caught themselves in the reflection.

Stars above, she looked so aged lately.

The candied queen frowned, slowly primping the bob of her bangs while she looked herself over. 

How many times had she practiced fierce expressions in this very vanity? So much for being the Sweet Queen…

The hat was staying here tonight, hell with it. Her boots were already clicking against the marbled stone of her staircase as she practically trotted down their spiraled formation, almost breaking out into a hurried jog the moment she could see the expanse of the private hallway.

There had to be more she could do. For too long had she suffered for the sake of herself.

Bon Bon stumbled to a halt once she reached the main foyer of the castle, looking around her. It was easy to divert to the spare kitchens for the visitor’s shop, but her eyes lingered elsewhere. Frozen in place, her throat suddenly felt dry. Slowly, the Baroness willed her feet forward to the looming might of the castle doors as she watched the left window, gently petting her hand across the massive slab of chocolate as the castle rumbled again. It nudged against her palm in warning to where it was going to swing, so she backtracked in a haze as the sleepy monstrosity swung back both and pushed the thick peppermint portcullis up into the roof of its mouth. She quietly toed out onto the castle grounds, bathed under the smile of Hilda’s moon and yet paying hardly any attention to the illuminating glow. Bon Bon’s focus led her in a trance to the statue she had broken earlier, shamefully reminded of the spear she had callously snapped off in a maddened rage when the sight of his face at her front gates burned violence in her corrupted mind.

Beppi hadn’t been the only one struggling under the fine prints of his soul contract. She had turned into a sour, ugly monster over the years. 

Ironic, it all was. 

Her frown deepened as she placed her hand upon the statue’s fist, feeling for the weapon no longer entrusted to its dutiful sentry- she had long tossed the damned thing in a fit of rage to the spearmint crocodiles patrolling her chocolate moat. It killed her, remembering at the time how cruel her thoughts went to consider shoving him in too.

Bon Bon remained there in silent pilgrimage, eyes turning misty as her memories suffocated her. She had never been raised to be like this. All her life she had been a spitfire of a child, proud and independent to the world but never unruly. Ironic, indeed, that the one thing that caused her so much torment was a character model created purely for bringing joy.

Perhaps she had been a little too proud, in her youth.

The Baroness lowered her head, breathing in deep to choke out the honest sob fighting its way up her chest. No more tears. No more feeling sorry for her horrible self.

She had years of apologies to make up for.

~*~

She had unapologetically caused musical hell in the confectionary kitchens, banging pots and dropping bottles, clanging utensils and scooting heavier ingredients across the counters as her heart raced faster than her mind. She barked at the curious servants sleepily trudging in, and especially had a knife at the ready when her father inevitably showed his yellow hide in her new domain. Happily alone in her fresh dance of madness, the candied queen plotted her next game plan. 

Measuring powders with painstaking taps and carefully pouring creams into their respective bowls, measuring out the tiniest drizzles of extracts and dyes into their little cups...everything came down to an exact science of remarkable scrutiny. While the oven kicked to life did she scurry into the back room of the shopfront to retrieve what had been gnawing away on the back of her mind and leaving her antsy in her shoes. While Bon Bon emptied the measuring cups and saucers into a mixing bowl, her eyes darted across old order slips. His name branded her thoughts and teased out the breath from her lungs. As she whisked the assembly up into a fine batter, her heart outmatched the stovetop in its heat.

Red…

Once the oven accepted her offering, she turned her back to it in order to prop her elbows up against the wooden island in the center of the room. Bon Bon heavily glanced down at herself; she was covered in flour. Good thing that was easy to dust off.

The timer ticked by infuriatingly slow. She rubbed her face with damp hands, scrubbed almost raw from the sink when her thoughts once again had distracted her.

Red. It too was the color of shame burning her cheeks. But...reluctant as she was to admit it, it also evoked another feeling as she turned to check in on her project.

~*~

Beppi shared one quality with her, and that was the miraculous ability to function reasonably at any hour of the day. He was still up and scampering about when she bypassed the penguins keeping guard at the main entrance. The clown had spent the entirety of his day with his own creations and hired help, rigging the structures and retesting controls to the attractions before everything opened back up again. His suit suffered from his efforts: spattered with grease and rumpled in sections from crawling through machines and beneath structures, there was no argument to the dedication spent in maintaining his world. 

By the time the moon set directly center in the night sky, he had been working on feeding the sentient rubber ducks floating in one of the game stalls. They bobbed and bonked into each other, squeaking out their adorable little honks while struggling to outpace the others in accepting the plastic pellets he offered. The children absolutely adored the little darlings, in which case their diets had to reflect the glossy sheens of their character.

One of the lime penguins stood beside him, pushing up onto the tips of its feet while peeking over the counter to squawk back at the noisy racket resonating inside. The clown snickered and emulated his own squeaks to the gaggle, just to rile them up further. He was blissfully unaware that he had company standing behind him until she coughed.

Bon Bon had her head cocked to the side while she stood with a daintily wrapped box in her arms. In all honesty, she shouldn’t have been surprised to bear witness to Beppi being his bizarre self, though it was jarring in a way considering the secret truth she now knew of him. She had her expression set in a pout while reflecting on the sad reality of his situation, but managed to lift it up into a dainty smile the second he turned to curiously inspect her.

The moment she saw his brows raise and his eyes twinkle in touched revelation was the moment Bon Bon began to question everything all over again.

He corrected himself to stand up tall, coughing into his fist while setting the feed bowl down onto the counter. The clown flashed one of his usual charming grins, but his gaze was soft and almost timid now that she was back in his presence. Bon Bon hesitated to move.

He had always been so loud and impatient. Noisy, reckless and fearless. He almost unnerved her, with how gentle and composed he had been now that their days of animosity were slowly coming to an end. Bon Bon swallowed, regarding him cautiously as she took one step forward. She noticed his throat tightening.

Was he fighting himself, all this time, just for her?

It was her turn to feel the knot building in her throat, as Beppi anxiously moved his gaze down to stare at the box in her hands. She had honestly been expecting some embarrassing theatrics out of him, the clown master, but nothing came. So, the Baroness decided for him. She held out the package, hoping that making her smile wider would help spark some confidence that this wasn’t memory lane about to revisit itself. He played with his hands while hesitating, nattering out a nervous joke about having his cake and eating it too. When she scrunched her nose and actually let out an uncontrolled giggle at the reality of their situation, of her humility in finally relenting, he very well could have cracked his back from how quickly he jolted back up.

Bon Bon had been focusing on his gloves, though when she looked up, she too tensed out of surprise to see him watching her with all the awestruck wonder of a small child seeing Santa for the first time.

After so many years of failing to control his thoughts, of attempting to woo her in his own confusing ways, to understand his battles...he had finally made her give an honest, genuine laugh. Not just a humored giggle or a bemused chuff...it was so beautiful to hear, that sweet lilt in her tone.

The Baroness was smiling a bit more comfortably now, even if her eyes still carried the foggy haze of sorrow within them. They drew forth courage in a clown suit, as Beppi suddenly found the feeling in his legs to walk right up and also place his hands on the box. She couldn’t tell if his own childish mentality was leaking through again to get a peek, or if he truly registered the pain in her gaze, but he was here again and she could smell the funnel cakes and cotton candy once more. Slowly, she relented control over the box, and watched it slip from her fingers into his own grip.

Beppi began to peel open the lid, but was stopped when his heart almost jumped out of his ribcage at the feeling of her hand upon one of his own. A shaky order came from her, about perhaps viewing it later for posterity. If she insisted…

The clown lowered the container, holding it at his midsection while his grin teetered on becoming sappy. She had given him a gift...and to think only twenty four hours prior, the once-cruel Baroness had been bawling into his shoulder. Beppi certainly wasn’t complaining- the butterflies in his stomach weren’t either.

It was reasonable to finally be burned out, after so long. Noticing how freely she had cried over him made him reconsider that maybe, just maybe, it was even more justified to give second chances. Clowns did not judge.

And she had always been an entertaining volunteer to his follies.

After seeking her permission, Beppi began to lead the Baroness away from the kiosk and back to his tent; if not for any private conversations then at least he could put the box away before his giddy eyes burned holes through it. She followed quietly, hands tightly gripping patches of her dress in a pitiful attempt to control her nerves. Yesterday had gone so well...she had been so soothed and impressed by the amount of control he had in him for the sake of just being around her the way she had always intended to be. And yet, Bon Bon was reeling all over again, swimming in emotions she had long forgotten about in all of her years of terrible viciousness under the Devil’s mark. He had given her everything she had wanted...for a terrible price. It disgusted her more on her self pitying, that perhaps Beppi suffered even greater than she and in the end he was still somehow smiling through it all.

She had her head down, feeling her chest thundering and her stomach swarming more with upset bees than fluttering wings. Once they reached the private abode of his personal tent did she take a deep breath and forced her way inside before him.

Whether or not Beppi was aware of her previous intrusion didn’t stop her from looking around as if she was seeing it for the first time. Her footsteps carried her around in a lost circle around the space, taking in the stacked boxes and wardrobes aligning the walls. Bon Bon paused at the broken state of a standing mirror, swearing that she had seen it in perfect shape before. As the candied queen adjusted again to everything, Beppi politely stepped behind her and placed the gift upon his table.

When he looked up, he noticed she had turned to face him, fists balled and her eyes tearing up as she too was looking down at the box. The surface space was cleared, but she never forgot the mixing bowls and the sweet little princess cake that dolled up on it.

The clown blinked, circling around the furniture to place a gloved hand upon her bare shoulder as the tears started to spill freely from her. The display unsettled him, though he stood by her side regardless as the proud and resilient woman he had known for so long broke down further and further. He himself was madder than a march hare these days, but Red was still a human at heart. She was gently pulled away from where she stood, carefully guided over to sit upon the edge of the quilted bed with him. Beppi kept his arm around her perfectly platonic, but it was Bon Bon’s own reservation to rest her head back upon his shoulder that did him in. Feeling his lungs stuttering, he tightened his embrace to keep her close, safe and warm.

She didn’t even have to fight her own words for him to understand the reason for her crying; he too remembered the day of the Great Smash. Her tears carried all of the festered shame, the misplaced anger and selfish disgust the Baroness once held in her damaged heart, trickling down her cheeks and now spattering onto the vibrant fabric of his knee. But, through it all, he still held her. Beppi too remembered his own tears and frustrations, but through it all, through some damned noble foolishness on his own end, he still held her. 

He let her have this moment for a bit longer, before she felt something nudging against her own hand clutched against her belly. Bon Bon furiously blinked her eyes to try and clear them, squinting through the glassy fog of her vision to make out something white and blue. Ultimately, she rubbed at her face and blinked again, witnessing his knuckles pressed against hers. He was holding something by a string...and it was drifting straight up into the air. Her eyes followed it, widening at the realization that he had pulled off his classic balloon face trick. Just to please her.

Once upon a time almost twenty years ago, her first encounter with him had been the same thing. There was something breathtakingly poetic about it now. Without tearing her gaze away, Bon Bon’s cheeks burned as she opened her hand and brushed her fingers with his as she looked up into his eyes. Once she had the string in a firm grip did she pull away from the clown’s embrace to sit upright, staring up at the extraordinary display and forgetting her tears. He stretched his grin into a graceful one fitting of a cheshire cat, closing his eyes to purr out a sweeter pun than she was expecting.

“You make my mind take flight.”

He kept his eyes closed partly out of nervousness of seeing her react to a more childish confession, but Beppi felt more and more brave by the second. He brought his hands back to his detached body once he felt she was comfortable, and placed them upturned upon his knees to try and crack his wrists; the day of labor had put quite a strain on his body. Beppi’s eyes jolted open, as did his form in a surprised shutter as something heavy and soft was placed upon his hands. He first glanced down at her, nearly reeling back in terror after registering that her neck was very much missing its head.

Indeed, he had been in for quite the nasty surprise during their first real boss fight all those years ago, where in her frustration she had peeled her own noggin right off of her shoulders as if it were held on like fondant to a cookie instead of something less casual. The imagery only brought on more questions that night when he laid in this very bed and winced upon pulling candied shards from out of his suit and the battered skin beneath it. Just like there had been many questions from fans as to whether he was really a balloon man, Beppi had his personal musings that her own magics turned her into a pretty candied abomination.

In a way, they were frighteningly more alike than what either wanted to admit.

He blinked and wheezed as he looked down at her detached face in his hands, which in turn sheepishly looked off to the side. She mumbled something at first, sneering at herself when the words just didn’t stick. Finally, slowly and timidly, Bon Bon closed her eyes and recited them again as her nearby hand gripped his string a bit tighter.

“...I...didn’t have my head on straight, anyway.” 

A shaky exhale left her a moment later. 

She was content with just keeping her lids closed and her brows knitted to ride out the discomfort of her silence, but fate never worked the way she anticipated. She felt his hands shifting beneath her chin, warm and pushing up. Bon Bon opened her eyes to find that he had lifted her up to face level (to where his would have been), and had shifted his hands a bit to gently, carefully stroke them over the rosey arches of her cheeks before she was shifted onto one palm so the other could dotingly sweep through her hair. Her eyes fluttered, surprised at how tender and sweet the gesture were. Beppi held her like that for a moment longer, until he shifted his hands slowly to rotate her head around upon them. It was then that Bon Bon noticed where not only had his body shifted to sit directly facing her own, but that his own head had turned in where it floated from her grip below it. They stared at each other from the opposing holds, pouting and curious until Beppi broke out in bubbling laughter at the genius setup of her own joke. It was intoxicating and granted with how bizarre their current situation was, she couldn’t help but be drawn to giggle a bit as well, louder in confidence until a rogue snort tore through her. They paused for a moment, before erupting in even more maniacal laughter together.

What a strange turn of events.

What a comfort to see how much they also shared in common.

Once the laughter died down, they carefully traded off each other’s heads. Bon Bon held his by the string for a moment longer as Beppi carefully situated her face back onto her neck, watching the skin fuse together and wincing as she cracked her neck and rolled it to let everything settle back where nature intended. He accepted his own back, screwing it in place like a lightbulb before pushing his nose to the side and exhaling blissfully when all the pressure began to drain out and reduce his noggin back to its normal size. Of course, there was a comical squeaking involved which drew her hands to her mouth in an attempt to fight back more bubbling giggles threatening to burst out of her.

Once everything was back to normal, the cursed duo sighed softly and regarded each other for a moment longer in a more peaceful silence. Even if it wasn’t able to be presented, Beppi’s cheeks were starting to heat up from beneath the layering of his face paint as her eyes twinkled and her lips settled into a wonder filled pout. A moment of fussiness overwhelmed the Baroness, and she reached out to begin fussing over the rumpled portions of his suit. Beppi watched her stiffly, but moreso towards her hands as they smoothed out some wrinkles along his arms and no doubt admired the sinewy muscles resting beneath his sleeves. He puffed out his chest as she played with resetting the frill on his neck, and he flexed what little bulk he had on his pecs while her fingers swept over them to try and smudge out the grease spots still on his suit. Once her mind caught up to her motor skills did Bon Bon realize what she was doing.

She bristled and broke her gaze as it diverted to the side, coughing to disperse the awkwardness of it all while prompting him where the nearest ladies room was. Beppi looked at her dumbly for a moment before shaking his head and cleared his throat, jerking his thumb towards the tent flap with some brief directions.

The Baroness thanked him and got up to take her leave.

The clown watched the entrance for a few seconds, finding breath in his lungs again while placing his hand upon his thundering chest. Then Beppi looked down at his hands as if her head were still resting in them, vulnerable and trusting.

His gaze moved to the box, sitting tantalizingly innocent on the table only a few easy feet away. She _did_ say to look at it when the timing felt better...and what better time was there but now? 

Beppi pushed himself off of his bed, taking a step forward only to pause; he glanced back and grinned stupidly at the little moment of pride in having a girl on it moments ago. Happy with how his luck was turning, he fluffed up his suit in the exact spots her hands had traced, and then resumed the mission at hand.

Glancing around cautiously, the clown took a deep breath and placed his hands on the box after confirming without a doubt that she hadn’t been sneaking around behind the surrounding crates again. His fingers twitched from both giddiness and revisited trauma from the last time he had a nice gift in his hands, but curiosity won out in the end. Flipping the lid up, Beppi peeked inside.

His boyish grin dropped in place of a sharp gasp and widened eyes.

Nestled right in the middle, upon a bed of colorful folded paper resembling a frill was an uncanny little clown cake, decorated to look just like him.

And there was a painted little mark resembling a lip print, right on the white fondant of its cheek while the cake smiled dreamily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got questions for me? Check out my tumblr!  
> socks-on-parade.tumblr.com


	11. It's Actually Chapter 10.5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I felt I was leaving out something sweet in the last one, and this idea sorta floated in an awkward space between Chapter 10 and my upcoming plans for the next update. So, have a sweet little addition that should have been included. :)

Beppi dreamed of her that night.

Their bizarre bonding had been a trust fall of sorts, he had realized, though the cake she had emulated to reflect his own had definitely sealed the notion within his heart that after all this time, perhaps he truly hadn’t become too hopeless.

After he walked her home, there was nothing that the clown wanted more than to rush back to his tent and marvel at the sweet little confection. It had been so meticulously crafted to resemble his own charming visage, layered in multi colored fondant and laced with the same licorice strands that he had employed to create the sleepy eyes and dreamy smile of the cake offering that started this whole change of fate. Beppi had stared at it for the longest time that night, prodding at the black gumdrop hat and pushing his finger down on the crimped layers of paper forming the frills in which the caked clown rested its happy head.

What tugged at his heart the most was the painted lip prints on the white side of the cake’s cheek. There was no mixing of signals there- only a truly spiteful wretch of a witch would give a fella’s hopes up after the last few days of healing and bonding between them. What they currently fostered couldn’t be safely placed as love, not even friendship yet...but seeing Bon Bon smile a genuine smile, the way her eyes glittered once the veil of vicious madness had singed away the burning embers of pride...the soft trill of her laugh, the graceful sweep of her hand across his own…

The clown hadn’t realized how heavily he had been leaning against the table at that point. Elbows propped and cheeks smushed between his gloved mitts, all Beppi could do was fantasize harder that the copious amounts of smitten hearts popping between his ears were really, truly real.

So, he dreamed of her that night. In the safe haven of his goosefeather bed and beneath the patchwork quilt his grandnan stitched so many years ago, Beppi dreamed of her.

He danced through the same reels of footage that had been spinning ever since the day he first laid eyes on her. Even if memories of his old life and his old name were but a foreign film in the vaudeville of his mind, Red still remembered his love for her. 

The foggiest patches of old ways skirted here and there. Something about a deed, of jokes about hair he never could remember having...the kindly smile of a humble confectioner inviting him in for a treat...and then, there was her, just as beautiful as every day before the last. Proud, composed and determined to change the world for what it wanted from her.

His greatest sorrow was that, until recently, Beppi had never been able to bring her true peace. His dreams had always reflected those hopes.

Slowly dancing together beneath a glittering sky. He, performing outrageous stunts on a stage to impress her with his bravery. She, seeking him out from a colorful crowd because in his heart he knew that she could never live without him, and that he without her. Two forces of magical nature they were, feuding like dragons and chasing each other among the clouds of passion for the next big fix. Bon Bon, the savage who craved disorder in her moments of self-imposed torment. Beppi, the dreamer who needed the ultimate challenge to soothe his impatient soul.

The world simply wouldn’t have been the same without her.

In his dreams, he always hated to say goodbye. Tomorrow always brought back the woman he loved, and he never had succeeded in sweeping her off her feet. His entire sacrifice had been to live for a world as whimsical and sweet as her own.

But no longer would those hopes flicker. Tomorrow would be the first time in almost twenty long years that he could finally spring to her doorstep and say hello.

And for the first time in almost twenty agonizing years, Bon Bon had dismissed her longstanding order of keeping him out. The butterscotch guards had turned to oggle at her in confusion when the Baroness returned that night, but ultimately shrugged and moved to relay word to the rest of the patrols. Up in the tallest tower of the slumbering fortress, she looked out at the carnival and placed a hand over her fluttering chest; it looked so beautiful. For the first time in all her countless nights staring at the Gomorrah to her dreams, that carnival looked absolutely breathtaking. She swore she could hear the faintest puffing from the pipes which billowed their hardy songs.

She couldn’t say she was in love. Of course, the proud queen was also kidding herself. After all, Red was still very much alive. After twenty long, terrible,shameless, shameful years of hating the clown for sabotaging her goals...the hardest surprise to stomach was not finding him in different colors, but that she had been so angry at her own jealousy to misinterpret everything he had tried to woo her with.

But, after everything, delivering the Devil back the tyrannical madness he had slipped among her dotted lines was a far better use of her agitation. It was only ladylike to return favors, after all.

That night, Bon Bon couldn’t remember what she had dreamed about. But after slipping into her red velvet nightgown and calling her fluffy cat Meringue to join her, she had stopped before reaching the foot of her bed. The Baroness eyed her wardrobe and ultimately succumbed to the urge to creep towards it. Up from the top shelf she retrieved an old box with twenty years worth of dust upon its rainbow spots, to which it claimed a new perch from atop her vanity’s counter. From a drawer the Baroness retrieved a pair of scissors, lingering for a moment as lunacy debated between the nerves racing from the heat of her brain to the drumming of her heart. 

Ah, to hell with it.

Bon Bon tugged on the lid to break the springs inside, carefully gripping the Jack as he tried to bounce up from the pit of his box. She initiated an unimpressed staring contest with those beady little buttons and stitched dopey grin, not at all surprised at the same color scheme of a certain ornery boy while she reached under to snip away the fabric tied to the tip of the coil.

She would never admit it, but Bon Bon curled up more with the doll that night than she did with her cat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have any questions or simply like to lurk? Check out my tumblr!  
> Socks-on-parade.tumblr.com


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you truly forget, the moment where it all began?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: the first kiss is coming soon! with the arc I've made, I am trying to not rush things since they've been enemies for so long. :)
> 
>  
> 
> I was going for another approach to this chapter but after seeing a fellow reader expressing this idea to me, I fell in love with it. This one's for you! You know who you are.~
> 
> There is still some rocky bumps in their road, but I intend to keep amping up the sweetness with each passing chapter. <3

She could smell the sweetness of cotton candy in his suit.

In all honesty, Bon Bon had expected another simple visit to go as planned when morning came. Simply slip into another light gown to evade the weather, give her father a stiff goodbye and grab her parasol on the way out to combat the morning sun. Every day had seemed a little bit brighter, now that years of pointless animosity were starting to fade into the horizon behind them. She could finally start to see the humor in things again. The maddening anger storming in her mind began to lift under the glow of his smile.

Her intentions were to check in on the clown and perhaps share a little slice from his doppelganger cake (assuming Beppi hadn’t already wolfed it down). Spending the rest of the early morning in his arms was entirely on the opposite end of the pleasantries spectrum.

Not that she was complaining much.

That silly little doll would never compare to the real thing. Limp tubes of cloth stuffed with old wool and beans were but straw and pebbles when she was the one being held inside puffy cotton sleeves; the Baroness basked in the occasional tightening of the muscles within them as Beppi held her. She could feel the light thumping of his heart against her own despite the differences in contours of their chests. The clown had respectfully removed his frill to allow the Baroness some extra comfort; she was laying her head against the slope of his bicolored neck, lost to the softness of his skin, the heat stubbornly clinging in his pores and the way everything tightened and pushed against her with every swallow and fired tension of his pulse.

Shockingly, Beppi had been rather quiet during the whole ordeal. All of his excited nattering had been spent welcoming her into his private abode while complimenting the Baroness on her divine looks; he no longer had any anxieties in holding back from complimenting her. Bon Bon waved them off with a poised hum, though she couldn’t ignore the fluttering dance her stomach and heart tangoed to while making her way past him to inspect the table. The cake was in one piece still, duly noted...though the cheek with the lip marks was lightly dented. A moment of pondering brought her to a rather amusing conclusion...one that made all the more sense when she glanced back at his hands and then returned her eyes to the finger-sized bruising.

Beppi was already chattering about stall games and carnival rides as she returned, obviously having already spent his first hours of the day fantasizing of all the amazing, crazy things they could do in only ways he truly understood. His next started to stutter and freeze up in his throat, when she took his hand in her own. In that moment, Beppi totally forgot about feeding the carousel ponies together.

Perhaps soon. Right now, Bon Bon wanted some peace.

Which was where they lay now, right atop of the diamond patches of his quilted bed. Of course it was improper and horrendously unladylike...just the way that the Baroness liked it. No self respecting snip from the royal thread would dare soil her purity with snuggling up in the arms of a man before even a proper...d...arrangement of...oh, to hell with formalities. If she wanted to get her hands on a striking fella then by the stars above, that’s what she was going to do.

Similarly, she also wasn’t the only one struggling to stay awake. Beppi was in a dead silence around her, almost curled up like a basking cat out of sheer bliss in finally having this moment with the woman he had waited and vied so long for. He kept one arm looped around the back of her waist in a light hook that betrayed its protective firmness; his other angled itself behind the candied queen’s head so that his (now gloveless) fingers could dotingly thumb and trace hypnotic patterns through the bouncy curls of her hair. When Bon Bon braved a slow glance upwards, she had to hold back what could have been a noticeable gasp of surprise. She never once could recall a time where his features looked so lost and peaceful.

It was too human for him.

Quietly, she nestled her cheek down against his shoulder and among what expanse of pillow she could still touch, watching his resting expression. She was mentally trying to overlay the face in the old photograph, recalling a younger set of features lost now to time. Those feathered soft eyebrows...a smaller, pointed nose...the twinkling eyes remained but Bon Bon swore she had seen them in a much lighter shade. Perhaps they were once blue?...her own smile started to bloom while remembering the charming grin of hope in that grainy moment of time, so proud and eager to make something of himself…

What had always fascinated her the most was what he was lacking currently.

Red…

Was that mop of tended curls as red as his name? She couldn’t fathom any other reason why two sensible parents would name their son such a thing if he were, say, born a brunette or a blonde. 

Maybe it fell out when the Devil’s curse sealed itself, much like she could bend and rend her body in strange ways to match taffy aesthetics. Maybe it was hiding there somewhere under the glaring expanse of white and red dividing his face like insane war paint, reminiscent of the wild bite and tamed sweetness of peppermint…

Bon Bon couldn’t stop herself from reaching up to cup his cheek. Did the gesture startle the dozing clown? Abso-honking-lutely.

Beppi jolted around her as if he had been electrocuted, almost kneeing Bon Bon in the gut while his brain processed the frazzled misfires from his nerves. Wild eyes darted at all angles from their sockets before focusing on her, pupils tight and quivering for a moment. It was the most fascinating sight, watching those small points pooling out as they relaxed back to their original state. Beppi remained bristled until he was regarding her almost lazily with a sheepish giggle. Slowly, his form softened back up despite the rebellion in his arms, which only drew her closer to him as if there had really been any space left.

It was so...she didn’t want to think of the word to describe what she felt, warm and safe under his silent watch and the promise of his embrace. But, what she did was keep her hand upon his cheek, stroking it with the same curiosity which twinkled in his eyes. A simple stroke brought something else to her attention (slow as she was to take her gaze away from his own); his paint wasn’t smearing. Blinking, Bon Bon brushed her thumb one more time over the white expanse, feeling only the warm presence of skin which remained resolute in its tone.

It was no wonder, why it never melted under the spotlights and Beppi’s own energy. The Devil had taken his identity in more than one way.

She hadn’t realized that her brows had been knitted in utmost focus until her eyes caught up to see his hand, reaching up to smooth over her own cheek after removing itself from its hook around her. It always astounded her, and even more so now, that when pulled away from their gloves did his hands still hold the same pinkish tone that reminded her of his humanity lurking beneath.

Perhaps her own eyes were twinkling now, but they must have been miniscule little flecks compared to the glassy sparkle in Beppi’s eyes. It was the glint of joy that only a man who had his ultimate prize could foster.

Proud as she was, Bon Bon wanted to think that she beat him in how large a swarm she could hold in her belly. 

They regarded each other for a moment longer, when at last her cheeks began to flush independently from his touch. Beppi’s smile was genuine and sincere as he started to close his eyes again, humming out a soft little exhale of pure bliss. He kept his hand in the same mirrored placement on her face, without one sliver of a doubt drinking up every moment of tenderness and committing it all to memory. His sweetness, his gentility…

Her heart felt like it stopped beating, the moment she likened it all to being so handsome.

This wasn’t the same clown. This wasn’t the ornery little devil that screeched and danced across the coals as if fear hadn’t been bred into his genes. Out of all the times they fought and chased one another, never once had Bon Bon seen this side of him. It only took a moment to consider their own unique madness which they had long fed upon like sinful wines...always looking for the next fix.

It would be hypocritical to not reflect on herself. For twenty terrible years she had been warped into a shameless tyrant, not at all what her dreams had meant to be. She couldn’t at all fault Beppi for falling so easily to the drunken lunacy that giggled in his mind; maybe he only acted in the ways he did because those actions were the only lights flickering through the fog.

Together now, exposed and understanding...it was like finding an antidote in him that cleared her mind of those angering thoughts. The jealousy was laughable now, as bearable as his puns. He being around her...woke something up.

After all was said and done, Red was still there, deep down and still waiting to see her as she was meant to be.

The Baroness pursed her lips, watching his dreaming expression once more. After everything, he was more mad to remain so absolute in loving her. It must have been so easy, to give up and spit in the direction of her name. But he hadn’t.

Damn be the clowns and their optimism.

She slowly pulled her hand away from his cheek, slowly tracing it down from his neck until it splayed itself across the broad expanse his chest. Beppi didn’t stir much this round, though he shifted slightly to show her touch had registered. A quick glance upwards confirmed that his eyes were still closed. Perfect- it was torturous to think while being watched.

In this moment of peace, she wondered what the world would have been like if the Devil never came. Her eyes sharpened as memories of her father’s past brushes with Red scraped fresh ice against her heart. What would her life had been, if she had been told from the beginning?

Her fingers were nervously tapping against the bicolored fabric of the clown’s chest as her thoughts wandered, though she fortunately noticed quickly enough to halt them. The Baroness couldn’t dim the flashes of emotion crashing around inside of her head, however.

She should have never sold her soul to the Devil. She should have never allowed him in close to start corrupting her world long before she was aware of his offer. Her father claimed again and again until he was blue in the face that he only had small snippets of memory to Red’s life before the darkness came. He promised her while dodging a vase aimed at his head that he could barely recite from his own experiences of what Red wanted to achieve; that all the lad apparently wanted from the beginning was to live a like as wonderful as her own, so in awe of a woman so fiery and independent. Her father made it sound so shameful and dismissive, and that Red had no doubt seen glimpses of her around the shop or out in the street during his visits…

Red had never spoken one word to her. But he had gone and given up his old life to go and slay his personal dragons, all for the honor of a princess that had inspired him.

Bon Bon startled herself, when she blinked away the tears rimming along her eyes. Worse of all, her hand had gone from laying flat against Beppi’s chest to clawing up a tuft of his suit into its grasp. Naturally the shift had stirred him out of his stupor again, watching her curiously while stroking her cheek. Words didn’t need to convey what he asked of her; his eyes spoke in his place. 

The clown looked down at the hold on his outfit, her hand tight and terrified. That wouldn’t do. It was trembling now once she realized he was watching, and it only worsened the moment he took his hand from her cheek to place it over her fist.

Beppi opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off as she racked herself for breath.

“Do you remember me, Red?...” She croaked.

For the first time in many years, she felt tired of being a candy princess.

Bon Bon stared him down, refusing to loosen up. The strangest thing happened with his eyes, when she called his name one more time: for the briefest of moments, they lost their golden color. For the fastest second in time, she swore that they looked human...and hazel. She hated herself for blinking, for when she focused again, the Baroness only saw that familiar corrupting color that mirrored her own. 

It was so familiar. Once upon a time, her own had been green.

Beppi stared at her as if she had just cursed at him, lids fluttering as his mind scrambled to make sense of things. To her great sorrow, it seemed his head was still lost in a fog of confusion. His eyes wandered, almost squinting under the heavy knitting of his brows as he wracked his brain hard to remember. His hand squeezed itself over her own. 

Balloons, popcorn...jingling bells and bumper cars. Her candy minions, that colorful shotgun...years of fighting with her over something?...but then he remembered why he fought. Because he loved her. He was having a hard time remembering why he did, but that there was just...a warm feeling of immense joy that crackled up from the pit of his being like embers up a stove pipe whenever he laid eyes on her. Beppi struggled to recall why he couldn’t just...stop, whenever she shut him down, but something he always promised himself was that he would never rest until he brought joy to her ice cold heart. Because that was what clowns did. It was simple.

But when he looked into her eyes again, suddenly everything flooded back, and his heart swelled as some memories resurfaced to forge new reason in his virtues. Looking into her eyes, Beppi remembered that he had always loved her because she, for reasons unexplained, gave him the hope to keep going.

He slowly loosened his grip upon her shaking hand against his chest, instead aligning his fingers up over her own as he too realized he had lost his breath in that moment that she began to hold hers in anticipation. Swallowing heavily, Beppi’s jaw quivered.

“Bon…” He paused, almost looking like he was in pain as he tried to remember. “...Bon. You are...Bon Bon.”

It wasn’t the answer she had wanted. Loathe as she was to cry, Bon Bon couldn’t stop a fresh trickling of tears while she licked her lip before biting it. She wanted to look down, away and into the sheets. Her dress...anything, to just lose herself in her sorrows all over again. But Beppi denied her that. For a terrifying moment of facing the unknown, she locked up the second his face began to drift closer to her own, but ultimately the sob boiling up in the pit of her throat billowed out in a shaky exhale of relief as he rested his head on top of hers. His free arm cupped across her back to the shoulder and drew her back in for another promising embrace, while the clown tapped his fingers again above her own.

She almost felt dizzy, from how hard her chest was pounding. Feeling the back of his hand now not only covering her fist but also between her bosom and against her sternum...there was no doubt that Beppi could feel it too.

Funny, because she was able to pick up the same unruly racket resonating from his own chest, just beneath the clump of suit still tightly gripped within her fingers. 

The constant tapping and rubbing from his digits lured her own away from their hold; once again they flattened against his torso. She kept them aligned with one another beneath his palm. As Bon Bon tucked her face against his neck once more, she relied on their hands to relay the emotions she couldn’t see now in Beppi’s face above her own. Swallowing, she closed her eyes and fanned her fingers again.

Beppi held her tighter the moment she allowed him to lace their hands together, trapped between their beating hearts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions? Curious to see more? Check out my blog!  
> Socks-on-parade.tumblr.com


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song lyrics make everything mushier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long delay in updating this- spring break has kept me busy with a side of being sick for awhile. But after 13 chapters (with pacing I hope has felt right), we finally got to this point!

Leaving the tent was like stepping away from all the worries in the world. The moment Beppi took her hand and led her back out into the morning sun, it was as if the ghost of her troubles ripped out of her to haunt elsewhere. Bon Bon could feel the kiss of the heat against her cheeks. She could feel the soothing caress of a gentle breeze combing delicately through her curls. The tender hold lacing her fingers gave a tighter squeeze when he glanced back to catch her eye.

The further his feet carried him, the farther Beppi’s mind swallowed up the nerves he felt within his tent. Out here, there were no sorrows. Tears dissolved in the air like glitter. Fluttering hearts began to pound with the rush of excitement and the thrill of chasing joy with the company of another. It was as if he had forgotten his timid quietness, the moment they were born again from the darkness within.

He had mentioned before of feeding the carousel ponies, which happened to be the spot they ventured to first. In the peaceful silence of the empty park, Bon Bon began to enjoy the simple beauty of walking beside him, speaking with her actions when words failed. Never in all twenty years of their clouded madness had she ever (even jokingly) settled on the possibility of holding his hand...being able to do it now felt like a fire had crackled to life in her very soul. The sight of him no longer stirred up the nauseating disgust she had always felt so righteous to foster.

While they stepped in unison among old cobblestone, Bon Bon glanced down to see their interlaced fingers. White and soft pink mixed together from the opposing fabrics of their gloves, but she could still occasional feel the wild throbs of his pulse surging along their pressed knuckles as it raced back up his palm. Even if he had donned an excitable facade, Beppi’s anxiousness of not failing her was still honest and true in his actions. 

It was truly touching.

She could see his eyes occasionally glancing back on his profile to regard her, and she fought hard to not laugh at the poor attempts at subtlety. While her mind remained centered around the clown, Bon Bon’s heart outpaced her brain. She picked up the pace in her strutting, almost hopping a few steps ahead of him to showcase the slender grace of her gait from within a sweet twirl of her skirt. The hand holding her own squeezed a bit tighter.

The carousel looked so majestic in its unused state, greeting them both with striking colors among its rigging while colorful ponies regarded them from under fresh strings of blinking lights. Without Djimmi’s magical buffs, the animal constructs were unable to truly separate from their poles and become real horses, but Beppi’s at least granted them sentience. He unthreaded his fingers from her own and parted to sprint up the ramp, unlocking the gate before holding it open with a flourished bow; the clown even took an extra step in removing his hat to her in further invitation. With a quirk of a brow, the Baroness slowly advanced, pausing once to nod her head at his gesture before slipping onto the platform. 

The mounts flicked their ears and knickered quietly as she walked among them. Bon Bon’s eyes avoided their own, instead keeping themselves darting between the saddles and jeweled studs decorating their pelts in her search for a proper pony. She bristled and snapped her head back in unison with the animals, when the racket she heard turned out to be Beppi literally pouncing onto a sickly looking mule of a horse (which had very much been asleep up until contact). She made a face when the old beast nattered loudly, though she shifted into a curious tilt of the head the moment that the duo registered each other: Charlemagne lowered his long ears and whipped a sagging tail, baring his teeth in a pearly grin while his master did the same. There was something about seeing Beppi acting so shamelessly childish and yet so in tune with the happiness of another that was...rather endearing, in a way.

Bon Bon watched him petting the lime horse for a moment longer until she was reminded of her own lack of a steed. She gave an audible chuff to signal her observation of the act, before turning her back and focusing again on the ponies ahead. They were all still regarding her silently. This time, she held her gaze.

Any horse that looked away as she drew near didn’t receive Bon Bon’s attention. They were beautifully outfitted and polished, however; it took much not to break her pride in wanting to look longer. Splashes of every playful color, from pelt to saddle lingered in the corner of her eyes as she walked past, but oddly enough it was the white pony among the pastels that held her attention the most. The Baroness stopped, as the sentient prop kept its head turned back to watch her. Slowly, Bon Bon approached like she would with a real horse, keeping her movements slow and her hands to herself. When she breasted the right flank of the steed did she fully regard it. This horse appeared to be male from the sculpting within its face: his stark hide glowed like the morning’s snow from under the carousel lights, though it was the honey-cream contrast within his mane that reminded her more of the buttercream frosting used back in her kitchens. Bon Bon smiled at the rich wine color to the horse’s saddle, perched atop a blanket of deep navy.

There were ponies of every style and color on the grand attraction, but he was the most regal.

Watching the horse, it was like a lost kinship surfaced between them. The familiarity in grandeur soothed her uncertainty in even stepping on this ride to begin with; it had been so long since she last felt the urge...but it was far beyond the point of swimming in regrets. Glancing back, she could see just beyond the pillar to catch the heads of Beppi and his goofball of a horse, playing a game of tug-o-war with his hat in Charlie’s teeth. 

The Baroness exhaled softly, and smiled. Beppi would have nudged her for not having a good time.

Her hand gently petted along the smooth neck of the animal, earning a light bob of his head while his ears flicked back. Slowly, the construct sank down the pole impaling him to rest upon his knees, giving her more than enough space as she adjusted herself into a sideways perch; Bon Bon was reminded of the enchanted wooden build rather quickly.

Before she could get too involved with petting the graceful imitation, something bumped at her shoulder. Bon Bon employed her most suave side glance, though immediately turned her head to blink at the bucket of apples being held out to her. Oh, right.

Beppi was grinning down to her as she plucked out a fruit, obviously happy to see her honing in on the one carousel pony he had meticulously assembled years ago. So far, the horse in return was charming her just as much as he had hoped. The clown leaned back against the next steed in the lineup, crossing his arms with the bucket in tow as he watched her. Witnessing Bon Bon daintily leaning forward to present the apple was like envisioning a fairy tale right before his eyes. With prim stiffness in her posing, the Baroness settled part of her weight against the beam, keeping her palm just under the beast’s snout while the artificial steed chomped down onto the treat with gusto. 

While Bon Bon enjoyed the endearing company of the fanciful creature, Beppi made his rounds to feed the rest of the ponies their daily sweet treat. She hardly realized he had left; a childish feeling of joy was tapping around inside of her heart at having the chance to pet and play with an adorable pony. Granted, this one didn’t smell at all like the cookie ponies back home...but there was something about circus horses that just captured a lady’s full attention. 

She didn’t notice either that the world beyond the platform began to slowly rotate around her vision while she watched the pony bumping his head against the palm of her hand, so truly enraptured with petting his equally polished mane. When the mount’s legs began to trot in the air did Bon Bon’s focus snap back to reality. She felt a moment of dizziness smacking against her as her eyes darted around, almost nauseating for the briefest of moments while she tightened up both her posture and the grip held around the pole. The speed never turned fast enough to make the colors of the carnival blend into insane streaks around her, but Bon Bon felt the same rush of adrenaline hitting the bottom of her stomach like a hot rock whenever she whipped her head around in tandem with every plunge. 

Bon Bon had ridden all sorts of horses over the years, but never one on a carousel. Nothing here could compare to the freedom of the real thing, but in a way she appreciated that. She could envision it now, of all the young boys and girls with twinkles of excitement in their eyes as they looked up at tame, gentle toys in their majestic displays. Perhaps once upon a time, she too had been such a child. 

Her knuckles cracked while her grip tightened, pouting as her mind slipped back into bleak clouds of memory. Twenty years of acting like an insufferable child couldn’t even begin to compare to the daughter she must have been before signing for her curse. When her mother had been alive, she had always tutted and shook her head at the stubborn rebellion beating in her child’s heart- Bon Bon never had been a lady’s lady. Ornery and independent, the daughter of a confectioner had been anything but sweet and tussled. She had probably been a hellion to her poor parents during her early years, refusing to bend to the whims of what society wanted and what a real girl should act and think like.

White gloved fingers settled atop her own, calming the shaking in her bones. Bon Bon blinked away tears she hadn’t noticed while she looked up at Beppi, fighting back a choke of shame at the look of unrepentant tenderness in his concerned gaze.

For twenty years she had been nothing but an entitled, paranoid monster to him. She had pulled every page from the book in breaking him down and testing his love. For Beppi to stand here still, twenty agonizing years later and still looking at her as if she were the most precious treasure worth protecting…

The bastard really was a mad fool.

She pushed down her sorrows to match the smile he gave her, nudging away his hand so that she could offer her own properly. Their eyes never left each other while their fingers laced again. Beppi employed his other in gripping a higher section on the pole while he stood like a true gentleman beside her.

The attraction must have looked absolutely spectacular at night when the lights and colors could truly shine, but she could make due with the ambiance now. The sight beside her was much more fascinating.

Beppi’s eyes looked particularly dazzling today.

He also smelled so wonderful...like candied apples and cotton candy…

Bon Bon didn’t realize the hot rock in her stomach was starting to feel rather fluttery.

One thing that struck her as particularly odd was the lack of music. Didn’t these things burst out a hauntingly sweet jingle? The sort of giddy piping that doomed the mind to hum it on repetition for days after? Looking around was fruitless, though she did catch what appeared to be a hesitant nod while glancing off to the side. Her eyes followed.

Nothing seemed to be worthy of interest...though to be fair to herself, the scenery was dancing by a bit too quickly to be so positive on that. A few moments later, Bon Bon swore she heard the softest of humming.

She lurched forward and gripped both the rail and Beppi’s hand a bit tighter when the ride began to lurch towards a slower cycle. Curious, she regarded him for an explanation. The clown merely rubbed the back of his neck with a wide grin.

The sound of footsteps pounced onto the wooden platform behind her, though the candied queen couldn’t make sense of what her ears were hearing with the thick pillar holding the attraction blocking her view...but she could hear it plain as day. The soft “bum” and “ba” notes, hummed again and again in a lazy rhythm reminiscent of a fondly beating heart. Her brows knitted together as she tried to find the source from atop her marvelous steed. Finally, the sounds took on meaning from four different voices, two of which forming the notes into words of varying pitches.

**_“Wise men say,_**

**_Only fools rush in…”_**

She listened to the long drawls in the lyrics, turning back to regard the clown again. His smile had dropped from its glittering grin to a sheepish little smile; it was then she realized that perhaps this had meant to be something intended for later. But from the way his eyes turned almost wet with emotion, and the change in firmness while squeezing her hand...the Baroness in turn felt her throat starting to tighten.

**_“But I...can’t...help…”_ **

The next words didn’t even need to be said. She could see it all there on his features. Words that he had waited twenty long years to confess.

But before the next verse could even be spoken, Beppi quickly snapped his fingers with a frantic wheeze. The mystery singers all stopped after a startled yip in unison, but that was ignored under the spellbound look he saw in Bon Bon’s eyes. She too blinked, snapping her head to pull back from the stupor. Bewildered, she scrunched her brows and cocked her head while staring at him.

It seemed that she hadn’t been the only one with cold feet on the matter.

The ride still cycled through its gentle rotation, though the lack of any noise was rather unnerving. She swore she could see his legs shaking at the edge of her vision. The nervous tightening of his throat was not unnoticed as he swallowed and looked away. Never before in twenty years, not even during their most terrible of battles had Bon Bon ever seen the clown look so scared of confrontation.

Still, she gave him a few seconds to compose himself. But Beppi faltered further, eventually avoiding her gaze entirely as he silently choked on his own fears. Perhaps even master clowns still had stage fright…

She could hear the restless shuffling from the other side of the pillar. Bon Bon dropped her gaze instead to the saddle beneath her, thinking. If he had taken twenty years of resistance in stride, then he was surely mad enough to be speak his mind as freely as his actions had. And if she hadn’t truly felt the same back, after this new healing process between them...the cakes, the snuggling, the crying and laughter over their strange little ways...if all of that was just some sick joke playing in his head, then perhaps he was in the right to be nervous after how his affections had been treated.

But if he had tried for twenty years to make her smile, seeing him now so nervous only told her that he would selflessly do nothing more but to wait another twenty years to impress the woman he had fallen so terribly for. Her own eyes were twinkling as she brought her focus back to their joined hands. This was the man who loved her spirit so much that he had felt inspired enough to strengthen his own and chase his dreams. He was the man who in turn had suffered so much for it. The least she could do was finally put his pain to rest.

Beppi felt her fingers shifting between his own. He had long wrenched his eyes shut while trying to drown out the booming chaos of clashing thoughts sounding off inside his head. But through all of them, thundering criticisms and bubbly giggles, hushed reassurances and lost whispers...he could hear the gentle coo of her voice silencing it all. It took him a few seconds to realize that she was humming the last three words of the last verse. Swallowing hard, Beppi slowly turned his head back and opened his eyes.

His breath almost froze in his chest when he saw that her face was close to his own. She had propped herself up onto one knee for support while gripping the pole for support during her lean. Bon Bon’s cheeks were burning, but her eyes were glassy and quivering in their gaze to him as they too began to become overwhelmed with emotion. He could feel the racing pulse of her heartbeat pounding against his palm.

She removed her hand long enough from the pole to snap again, swallowing as well with an equally shy smile that matched his earlier. As the quartet started up again, Beppi’s heart might as well could have stopped as she started to lean in.

**_“But I...can’t...help…”_ **

Perhaps it had been instinct to close his eyes again, when he felt her forehead pressing against his own. He squeezed her hand tighter, terrified to let her go.

**_“Falling in love…”_ **

He nudged his face upwards. Twenty years of dreams were nothing compared to the reality of feeling her lips against his own. 

**_“With...you.”_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra questions, comments or looking for more nerdy stuff? Check out my blog!  
> Socks-on-parade.tumblr.com
> 
> Lyrics taken from the song "I Can't Help Falling In Love With You" by Elvis. :)


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After all this time, they never were lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for taking almost a month to update this. I have been dealing with a lot of personal and life stuff that had made it really hard to stay focused and confident in writing. But, I didn't want to let any readers down. :)
> 
> I couldn't resist the ending for this, but it is good healing stuff.

Kissing him felt like the breaking of an entirely different curse.

For once, the fire of restless ferocity had snuffed itself out in the hot veins of her being. She felt like she was floating and the world had gone still, silent save only for the soft whimpers she could pick up from the owner of the opposing mouth.

The kiss had only lasted a few lingering seconds, but even though her lungs had stopped working for that quick rip in time, Bon Bon was convinced that she was still taking in fresh, crisp air to blow away all the dust and stuffiness that had collected in her soul. She had to test it for herself that she could still breathe after such a rattling burst of tingling joy, so she panted lightly against his chin while pressing a hand to her chest. Looking up to the clown showed he looked just as spellbound by the effect, eyes glazed over with a heavy set to his lids while her lipstick hilariously clung to his offset grin. A little flurry of plump hearts with charming smiles manifested and popped around his head like hot kernels.

There was still the gentle tranquility of the quartet crooning out their sardonic notes, though she was quick to tune it all out as she observed the clown. The corrupted brightness of the stark yellow to his eyes brought her back to thinking of the sweet lightness of their tone in that old photograph. Bon Bon began to let her musings wander fondly to guessing what their true color must have been. Green would also look very fetching on him…

Her pony slowly cycled his legs into a dying trot as the ride began to stutter into completion. Beppi was still frozen in place, holding her hand sweetly as he took her all in. Just like a siren, looking at her now, so peaceful and tender...he fumbled in removing his free hand from the pole to readjust his hat while their fingers tightened in their laced embrace.

The gentle morning breeze began to still once the cogs beneath the platform jerked to a complete stop. While the canopy of the ride sheltered them from the morning sun, it wouldn’t be long until the summer blaze would start nipping at their bodies. Perhaps now was a good a time as any to start waking him up. 

Bon Bon made a quip about lemonade while she smoothed the curl of her bangs, watching with adoring smugness as Beppi snapped his head from out of the proverbial clouds in order to perk up at her. Her smile tilted wider once he connected the dots that she truly, honestly meant wanting to spend more time in his carnival. He guided her off of the steed but took no further action in laying a hand on her elsewhere; he wasn’t that bold and stupid. Fortunately, Bon Bon took the lead for him.

She led the way off of the platform, stroking her thumb over the thick fabric of his gloves while trying to figure out just where the hell she was actually supposed to go. She began to wander with him in one direction, only to stop after making out that the sign over at one fancy stand was for funnel cakes. Then she decided to change pace and go the opposite way for a few minutes until she found herself reaching the souvenir sections instead. The Baroness ultimately relented with a small grunt and stepped back for him to guide once more, and Beppi looked pretty tickled that she appeared to be so interested in the place he thought was long hated. There was a quicker pace to his footsteps once he started up, almost to the point where she debated breaking into a trot just to keep up. 

The clown was starting to crack behind his restraint and chivalry the more he whipped his gaze, faster and faster between all of the lonely game stands and ride queues; the bubbling boyishness of his cursed personality was struggling to seep back through. It was like watching a dog starting to zigzag against a leash, trying to find the perfect shrub.

If she had still been struggling, Bon Bon would have found this classic restlessness of his to be beyond agitating. Instead, she was now seeing just how sweet it all was. He was no doubt excited beyond words in figuring out which goodies in his playland would be the best matches for her.

Well, if that were the case, then the clown had gone above and beyond in trying to impress her.

Bon Bon took a deep breath, thankful that the fairgrounds were still void of the public before she swallowed her reputation, squeezed his hand in apology and launched herself into a sprint that rocketed herself past him. Beppi squeaked and nearly tumbled around after her, tripping over his own feet and sputtering out nonsensical sounds that resembled words. Her pace before had been prim and lazy- something a fella like him would swoon over while watching her from behind. No no, this behavior of hers now was a thought on a whim, and she owned with with grace despite being just as clueless to her destination as before. The faster she ran, the less resistance Bon Bon felt from tugging him along. She didn’t even need to glance back; Beppi had detached himself from her just quickly enough to kick his heels into a launch so fast that he had not only effortlessly caught up within a heartbeat, but had tackled her just gently enough to scoop the Baroness up into his arms.

There he was, that shameless goofball she had first met once upon a time.

Confident that he wasn’t going to disappoint her with his excitement, Beppi’s wild flare was quick to resurface. She was carried in his grip like a blushing bride as he trotted along the colorful pathways of the fairgrounds with the most charming smile on his face. Years of battling with him had taught her that the clown still loved the thrill of a challenge in any sort, and the last few weeks had been a surprising revelation as to just how much he had been holding himself back for the sake of proving himself.

While she was lightly rocked from the speed of his flight, Bon Bon couldn’t help but admire the amount of strength and stamina that Beppi possessed in carrying her. Not even a pant or a sweat to his brow had formed. She turned her head to regard the bicep she was using as a pillow, and began to stroke it with the back of her knuckle. That caused the clown to slow just a smidgen as he glanced down to regard her. She did the same, curious.

Aside from the reckless stunts, terrible diet and relentless need to shove himself into spotlights, there was something so childishly innocent about him. Everything he did was simply for the sake of having fun in his own little world, and that was a feat of perception she had no idea how to dip into. The way he was watching her rubbing his arm brought back recent memories of the snuggling in the tent- Beppi almost seemed baffled that she was touching him so tenderly. But, of course, he also took it in stride with the dorkiest grin and the sweetest little hints of a flush along the white side of his face.

She couldn’t blame him for being cautious. She still winced inwardly at the recent memory of the cake to his face.

Beppi stopped walking altogether, taking to a light kneel in order to set her back onto her feet. Bon Bon dusted herself off and smiled at the colorful yellow kiosk she was now standing in front of. Her fingers slipped across the polished lacquer of the counter while she read the fancy letters of the lemonade stand. Beppi skipped to the other side of it to start rummaging through all of the ice buckets and containers.

Bon Bon propped her elbows up and reclined her chin on top of laced hands, watching him pour and stir the ingredients into colorful cups with all the flare of a barkeep. His pearly grin almost glittered under the summer sun while he worked, putting a little paper umbrella at just the right angle before he was satisfied in pushing the drink towards her. He was paid back with a warm hand on top of his own as she sampled.

After the refreshment, they began to walk along the rest of the kiosks and stalls among the rows. Beppi had his arm looped around her while his grin seemed to turn even larger than before. The warm fabric scratching against her back brought up a curious thought as to whether or not that suit was insulated enough to not cook him alive during heats like this. The Baroness felt sweltered just looking at him, but the clown seemed completely unfazed by the weather as he pointed out other places to stop by.

He prepared a hot dog for her at the next stand they visited, talking of a sweet young man who ran the setup and how nice his smile was. Bon Bon politely turned down the candied apple station next, but politely decorated one just for Beppi with every crushed nut, sweet syrup and powdered candies she could get a spoon into while listened to him spinning around in one of the stools. He snorted and went cross eyed when she dabbed a bit of warm caramel on his nose. She giggled.

She sat beside him as he chomped down the wildly unhealthy snack, resting her head on his shoulder while enjoying the smells of everything. The sweetness of the doctored apple, the lingering aromas of the carnival on his suit...she turned her head to rest it upon his frilled collar, lightly smelling around the ring touching his neck. Bon Bon bristled, and cooed lowly with a deep satisfaction.

Beyond it all, he smelled just like a man.

Fortunately the clown didn’t react too outlandishly towards the subtle movements, though Beppi did catch on; his neck tilted the opposite way to give her just a bit more room.

After all of the snacking was when the fun started up again. With arms looped, Beppi led her to the game stalls and flourished his hand with a bow to give her the freedom in choosing. He realized frighteningly fast that she was a much better deadeye at the shooting gallery than he was, which almost made his toy gun comically melt in his hands as she took aim with her own and blasted the bouncing targets to smithereens. He had to mentally recall his last will and testament in his head while dangerously teetering on a bunch of boxes inside the stall in order to retrieve the biggest, fluffiest stuffed cat to give to her. Bon Bon set it down in favor of wrapping her arms around him instead.

He ended up carrying the giant black and white plushie while she wandered over to the next stall. The bottle pyramid! It was one of his favorites, and Bon Bon knew that her winning streak was going to be smashed in a few quick seconds.

Really, it was also because she wanted to see the muscle behind his throwing arm. Girls.

While he had watched her with tingling awe before, Beppi took it completely upon himself to step up and employ as much over-the-top force and form in his throws. She knew he was a master at pitching; she had felt the aftermaths plenty of times when nursing broken bones and terrible welts back in their fighting days. Bon Bon was relieved to instead be on the observing end for this one, squishing the stuffed cat close to her body while peeking out from behind it as he threw perfect arcs with terrifying force behind them. The thundering crashes of the bottles toppling made her shiver. 

Before, the sight of him winding up used to fill her with panic. Now it was perhaps one of the most sexy things she could witness as he made those stacks of tin his bitches. Beppi was finally panting by the time he was finished, leaning against the stall while flexing his other arm and puffing out his chest. She gave him a pat on the head for his efforts, trying to withhold her snickering. He stuck his tongue out at her.

The rest of the morning was spent impressing each other further at the various game stands. Beppi produced his more tender side in feeding the rubber ducks their pellets at the Duck Bobbing stall, and relentlessly hinted at which one held the winning number on its underside as she waved her hand over all of the selections. The Baroness ended up nudging him away from her as she smiled and he cackled. The prize was a pretty snow globe featuring a carousel, but she turned down his offer in favor of another kiss.

Last time, Bon Bon ignored the invasive frill. This time she practically yanked it off of its fasteners while Beppi raised his brows. She froze at the sight of a perfectly set black bowtie that had been resting under it, and stared at him hard for a moment as he grinned and moved to snap it. Bon Bon face palmed herself while snorting out a loud raucous laughter at the ridiculousness of it all.

It did make for good leverage in yanking him back in for round three, she realized. Beppi had no objections at all to it.

Lunch time came with an actual flare of artsmanship to it. She watched the clown work one of the grill stations as she sat at the next stall over to avoid the heat. Sipping on her second lemonade of that day (pink this time, as she couldn’t resist), the Baroness dismissively batted at her bangs to get them to behave under the combination of summer heat and the occasional coughing of the nearby flames. Once again, how Beppi wasn’t absolutely roasting throughout with now a heavy apron had baffled her, but he put on quite a show in chopping up onions, tomatoes and various herbs while setting a pan of marinated pork on top of the grill. He winked and blew a kiss to her when the waiting time stretched, and was more than happy to demonstrate an absolutely dangerous dance of tossing and catching steak knives before they went into shredding and pulling apart the tender meat. She was never one for street food, but seeing the complete dish of pulled pork, tangy sauce and diced aromatics woke up the sleeping lion in her stomach.

Dessert was of her choice, and that was spending a lazy rotation or five on the ferris wheel while settled in his arms. They watched the clouds together while picking out the shapes within them, but after a few minutes she ceased to just enjoy the softness of his neck and the puffiness of his suit while he fondly stroked her shoulder with his thumb. The light bouncing of his leg reminded of his ongoing restlessness, but it flattered her that he was being mostly still for her own enjoyment. That deserved a sweet kiss on the neck.

The choked wheeze that came was a revelation that perhaps his frill had meant to be a tickle guard.

Around the third rotation came a pleasant silence lost to a dreamy stupor. Beppi still watched the clouds while she remained nestled up next to him. His thoughts wandered back to Djimmi as the white cotton in the sky started to resemble more uncanny shapes. One looked like a lamp, another took on a vague shape of a triangle...he frowned, taking his turn to mourn recent memories. He hadn’t realized that his hand on her shoulder had tightened while he reflected and regretted.

He hadn’t reached out at all to the genie after the confrontation in the fortune tent. Up until then they had been thick as thieves, sending messages to one another if frequent visits wouldn’t do. The loneliness must have been killing the poor lug. The thought of that made the clown whimper; he hadn’t been born to hurt people.

Bon Bon winced beneath him, but he hadn’t immediately caught on to her peeling back his hand as he continued to stare forward. The frightening clarity of memories began to peer through the clouds of his foggy memories, and he could see it within once more. As sharp and true as the day had been, all of those years ago. Of them, shaking hands while standing at the new plot of land, surrounded by boxes and workers breaking them open to start building structures and untangling the rigging. He could recall it all, from the gentle smile that had always remained on the genie’s face to the numbing remembrance of a crimson hand patting through…

Beppi’s brows furrowed, while Bon Bon watched him in confusion as he absently rubbed at the bald expanse of his painted head.

Old words that sounded so foreign started to fill his mind, ringing clear as bells before the haze of forgotten days would swallow them all up once again. Even in his lunacy, Beppi swore the smoke obscuring his mind smelled just like infernal cigars. He curled his nose while listening to the mental sounds. Addresses, specific dates, different sums of money and the titles of deeds and blueprints in his hand...he saw it then, Djimmi leaning in a bit more to look over the documents with him and comment that Beppi’s pants were dusty...but Djimmi used a different name for him. His pants didn’t look red…

Bon Bon flinched as Beppi jolted from some powerful spook within him. She looked around at the seat they were sitting in, curious if something about the cushion or the bolts had done it. The Baroness whipped her head around for any signs of sudden birds or strange noises in the air, but ultimately blinked and stared at the clown in utter bewilderment as to why he suddenly was clinging to the door of the cart and the headrest as if he had just seen the Devil himself.

She balled her hands up as his head slowly turned to regard her, eyes large and yet so pointed in their scared state. He asked her what his name was. The tone was so helpless, she might as well could have felt her heart cracking. Bon Bon reached out to stroke his arm in an attempt to soothe him, remembering the torture he had faced for so long in forgetting himself.

It was Beppi, she mumbled stiffly. The letters were painful on the tongue, choking her throat as she uttered them. But, it was the only way to make sure they were on the same level of understanding. She quietly gasped when Beppi shook his head, absolutely concerned over his own insanity. She held his hand on the headrest once it started shaking.

Beppi’s eyes darted around the carriage, and he shook his head again. He asked again, but waited not for her answer.

“...I am…” He huffed, still lost in the terror of lucid memories. “...Red?”

She fretted that it would wound him further if she admitted that she knew, so Bon Bon played the safe route. She couldn’t bear to cause him to spiral now, though she felt just as honorable as Djimmi in playing it dumb. It was terrible, holding back. 

So, instead, she switched tactics.

The Baroness repeated the name, and looked off into the horizon. A soft smile started to turn her lips as warm and soothing as the beginnings of dawn. The very audacity in thinking that her presence might have inspired him to awaken from his torment...her heart skipped a beat for a moment. She could believe it.

It was a very handsome name, she decided aloud, and looked back to him. She asked him if that really was his name, as it felt so fitting. Red…

As she had hoped, the misdirection seemed to work. The clown took in an audible breathe and began to loosen up considerably upon seeing her dreamy approval. He mulled it over in silence, no doubt sifting through things in his head while looking down at his suit. He tapped one of the large patches of red while thinking again and again, starting to nod with affirmation as if it all started to make sense. 

He asked her, hopeful, if she really thought that Red was a handsome name. The way his eyes started to glitter stirred up the strongest maternal feelings for the briefest of moments within her as she nodded again. 

But, Bon Bon also had the audacity to prod a bit further. Did he remember her too, from all the way back?

She turned his hand just enough so that she could hold it properly, scooting forward so that he could take her back into his embrace if he wanted. Beppi was still too frazzled to employ that option yet, but he was staring at her with such a wandering gaze that he was no doubt trying to seek any visages of her in his new book of revelations. The moment was fleeting; she feared that within a few moments the curse will hit again and his goofy persona would claw its way back out. But, she too was hoping that he truly hadn’t forgotten all of her.

He had stubbornly loved her for twenty years. Surely the Devil hadn’t snipped away her roots entirely out of history.

She asked him what her name was while biting her lip. At this point, it would be asking too much of him to not repeat the moment of confusion back at his tent. Bon Bon had always been her name of royalty, just as Beppi had always been his calling card on the posters. Just the fact he was starting to remember his own name was more than enough in terms of progress. 

It would pain her heart again if he truly didn’t remember, but knowing that his love for her had never diminished was good enough. Bon Bon could settle with that for the rest of her life if she needed to. Perhaps she would go back tonight with her tail between her legs and ask again why her own father couldn’t remember the clown before the Devil made his deals. 

Then again, that recollection alone was more than a just explanation.

She watched as Beppi squeezed at her hand, biting his lip while looking at her boots. Silent words danced along his incanting lips. Finally he bristled, widened his eyes and coughed out the last of his breathe before swallowing dryly. The clown looked up at her, eyes soft and almost wet and yet so incredibly steeled. He removed his other hand from the carriage door, reaching it out but stopping just halfway to her as the fire in his gaze started to snuff again. She snapped her arm out to bring his hand back, holding it properly like he no doubt had intended.

The Baroness asked again, voice wavering while squeezing both of his palms.

“Bon….Bon...B….” He mumbled again and again, caught in a loop as if the clouds were swallowing the last few letters as he chased them. She stood up straighter, leaning in without realizing that she had stopped breathing.

Her real name had never been spectacular. Her candied name was no doubt an eye roller when said in its completion; real original names were best left to poets and the philosophical types. But, from the way he bit down his own tongue while his hands shook in her own, Beppi must have caught the flickering light in the fog. He choked and lowered his head, wracking his chest while trying to fight back the beginnings of a sob as things started to flood and overwhelm his mind.

He was terrified, it looked, that if he didn’t hold on long enough, everything will be lost to the cackling madness and infernal smoke all over again.

He croaked it out like it was a lost mantra that could seal away the darkness. He weeped, as she froze. A fresh sting of heat began to bite at the backs of her eyes and around the rims. 

The clown looked up at her, and even through the glassy streak of tears slipping across his vision, he could see her now as he saw her for the very first time so many forgotten years ago. He remembered the taste of the bonbons, of the glimpses he took of her inside the store as he stood out on the cobblestone...he remembered the first time she looked at him and raised her brow but let her gaze stay. He remembered that first exchange, and of the rosy blush he caught on her cheeks and the prim way she had once wore her hair, settled and tucked up in a perfect cinnamon roll of a bun.

Beppi saw it all there in her face, hazy in the threads of reality but stubbornly lingering.

She was still the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on. He refused to forget her.

“Bonnie…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out my blog for nerdy stuff, questions or other musings!  
> socks-on-parade.tumblr.com


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Up, up, up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the month hiatus on this. Vacation and stuff happened. I also do not apologize for the ending, but one of the tags was long in the making. 0:)

Bon Bon refused to let go of his hand the rest of the day.

Once the ferris wheel had touched down, she was the one who opened the carriage door and guided him out. Beppi was still lost in a confused stupor, having long finished his crying despite her seeing the fresh streaks of tears soaking into his cursed paint. His grip on her hand was light as he followed her down the ramp, eyes glazed over with intense thought under knitted brows. 

He looked so disoriented. Bon Bon knew his memories were being swallowed up again by the madness.

She paused with him just after they reached the stanchions to the ride, giving him all the time he needed to regain his grounding again. In her heart she knew that the revelation at top would be for naught; just as she had signed away her decency for tormenting anger, he sold his insecurities in exchange for a mask. Indeed, it showed. His eyes began to sharpen as he stared at the stones between his feet, brows raising as the confusion lifted. In return, Bon Bon’s teeth nearly crushed themselves as she watched the Devil’s doing take away the real man that she had…

The Baroness bit her lip. Red was still there. Beppi had always been Red, just in a different color. As he struggled right there before her eyes, she quietly debated on if she was on the same page with the heavy “L” word. They had been cursed for years now, suffering under emotions of jealousy and mania, of anger and naivety. Red had loved her for years, and yet her own feelings had only recently fostered; kissing him and hugging on him so soon was a crazy leap indeed. But, it felt like retribution now, to comfort instead of strike. She squeezed his hand, keeping her gaze simple yet uncertain.

As expected, by the time he looked up at her all she saw was a glittering sense of innocence to his eyes. Beppi looked at her for a long moment, before rubbing his head and asking what they were just doing. Reluctantly, she feigned a pleasant smile and mentioned the ferris wheel. He perked up considerably, grinning as if nothing traumatic at all had happened at the ascent as he asked her if she enjoyed the view.

It was terrible, but it wouldn’t do to frazzle him further. So she ignored the events in the carriage to instead make a simple comment that the bay looked pretty today. There was a stifled pain to her coo of bittersweet fondness when he leaned in to purr that nothing was as pretty as her. 

Oh, Red…

He had dealt with this for twenty years. His sacrifice was the reason she misread the signs and signed her own life in petty anger. Today was the day she would make amends.

Bon Bon squeezed his hand again, walking alongside the man who loved her for so long. Beppi’s steps became more jovial, bouncing along with oblivious joy as he pondered aloud as to where they could go next. She glanced at him. He truly hadn’t remembered what had happened, only a few short minutes ago…

It was terrible.

She slowly batted her eyes, croaking out the simple question of what he would like to do. This was his kingdom and she was the visitor. It was her turn to pamper and let him reap the spoils. The clown regarded her with a curious tilt to his head, but took her up on the offer; he looked incredibly giddy now. Eager to impress her once again, he glanced around while nudging his hand in their shared grip. His eyes landed on the strength test attraction, sealing his decision right then and there.

Bon Bon hung back after they parted, already finding herself missing the soft warmth of his fingers as he rubbed his hands while eyeing the comically large mallet. She returned a smile when it was sent her way, but it fell back to a troubled pout. She watched him make a dramatic show of swinging the hammer far beyond his head to the point of nearly stumbling off his feet before he brought it forward and down onto the pressure plate. They both watched the weight zipping up towards the top until it smashed into the shrieking bell at the top. The Baroness clapped her hands as he took a bow, but she felt a growing illness starting to nauseate her. It was so jarring, witnessing him so happy now when the event of him crying in fear and shame still burned fresh in her mind. It made her think back on the day of the Great Smash, in how broken he must have been then.

He turned to flex at her, drunk on the childish wonder of his fantasy world. What was better about it now was that he got to share it with the girl of his dreams. He puffed out his chest and sounded off a bizarre little grunt that was perhaps an attempt to be macho, though when he looked to her for feedback he noticed her gaze looked oddly distant. Beppi paused, and dropped his arms with a quirk of the brow. Was she not impressed?...He glanced down at his chest, then to poking poking at his belly while making a tiny squeak for comical effect...which would have been funny if he had actually gained a laugh out of it. Perhaps he needed to lay off the funnel cakes before bed…

The clown looked back up to her again, frowning. Fortunately, the awkward silence was enough to draw her gaze back; Bon Bon snapped out of her trance with a sheepish giggle. She clapped her hands again and complimented on his physique, as her demeanor changed to something more gentle and doting. She blinked at the mallet he picked up to offer her, and shook her head much to his surprise.

Bon Bon loved beating the tar out of stuff...did he offend her with his machismo?

The Baroness sauntered up before he could even put the heavy lug down, taking to fluffing at his frill while speaking softly that she was impressed with how strong her tough guy was...it bloomed something hot in places other than his cheeks. Beppi’s heart swelled at the praise, as he watched her doting hands and the dreaming haze of her eyes.

She asked him if he knew how amazing he really was, full of fortitude and resilience. Beppi thought for a moment, and supposed that was true. Those were some very big and important sounding words, after all. He was beaming with a lovestruck grin by the time she was patting at his chest, shifting even more giddily on his feet when his princess came in for another kiss.

Bon Bon cupped both of his cheeks as she closed her eyes, surprising him with the firmness of her hold while finding just the right angle for their mouths to comfortably rest. It wasn’t just a kiss of affection; it was one of promise, and it knocked his hat clean off his head because of it.

She promised he would never hurt because of her, ever again.

When Bon Bon pulled back, it felt as if all breath had been ripped clean from her lungs once again. She loved it. She inhaled the crisp warm air of the summer, pleased to feel it cleansing her form from all of the fires of anger and aggression she had been cultivating for years in her own delusions. It was her potion of courage, and it helped cool the steam building up in her storming thoughts. 

Beppi watched her with a hazy smile. She was so beautiful, so proud and absolute. Spicy and strong like raw cinnamon, and yet silky and sweet like the finest of chocolates...he remembered drawing those conclusion from the few times he had really taken in her warmth and smells during their embraces, and it was a fond sensation he would imprint on his memory for years to come. She was the living embodiment of both those things and more...his beautiful candied queen.

Likewise, she remembered the gentle sweetness lingering on his suit, from all of his favorite foods from the wonderland he had crafted out of his own imagination. Her charming showman. He embodied everything worth having wonder for.

Bon Bon had forgotten that she slipped her hands to his shoulders when she took her moment to decompress. She only really caught on once she leaned so far back during a blissful inhale that Beppi caught her by the hips before she completely slipped on her heels. They hung together in a poised dip, reminiscent of two dancers caught up in a bewitching song. Her eyes met his, and they both mirrored a fond smile.

It still felt so sudden, feeling so smitten to the man she once felt so strongly against. But time was a silly thing anyway.

She lightly patted at his cheek as if it were a playful swat, prompting an infectious giggle from the clown while he pulled her back upright. Beppi stepped away to retrieve the mallet again, giving his new love a fleeting moment to take a deep breath.

He will be saved.

For now, he will be loved.

The moment she accepted the hammer, it was an absolute. Bon Bon looked back at him after taking her spot before the pressure plate. Beppi gave her a golden beam of a smile with a thumbs up to follow. He looked so happy right now in this moment, unburdened by his sorrows and unbothered by his past...even if he struggled, just being here with her clearly was worth more than any gold or power he could have signed for. He was happy. Bon Bon’s lip quivered, and she smiled too. 

She brought her gaze back to the challenge and she furrowed her brows. Her grips adjusted themselves along the taped handle of the mallet. Bon Bon sank down into a slight crouch to gain her traction, to which she employed the power built up in her knees to launch herself up to swing the hammer back. She brought it down with all the anger she had held onto, and from it she guided her cursed rage to a healthier target. The hammer deafened her ears for a split second from the sharp ringing as it hit the plate, but she ignored it to catch the weight rocketing up to the heavens and strike the bell so hard it actually jerked hard where it was fastened.

Bon Bon stared in awe, as Beppi rushed in to hug her gleefully from behind. Her power was intense...for a moment, strange thoughts of seeing stars among twittering birds danced along her vision as she fingered the handle of the heavy tool sagging in her hands. A brief image of a dizzy being of brown and cream lurched where the meter board was, to which her eyes sparked into a fiery glow once the idea struck her.

She grinned to herself while leaning back against the clown, giggling softly upon feeling his kiss against her neck.

~*~

The rest of the afternoon was spent at another attraction favored by her clown: the bounce house.

Honestly, Bon Bon was not surprised at all to hear of it as Beppi practically dragged her to the place. With his boundless energy, this was probably the spot he hit up before his bedtime every night. But, today was his day, and if he wanted to bounce around like a little rabbit then by all means.

She was woefully dressed for the occasion, though.

The Baroness squinted down at her dress while the clown was already warming up inside. She had her bloomers on and a slip beneath the gown, but it was still very improper for a lady to be hopping around on a trampoline. The voice of her mother tutted inside of her head while she stood at the mouth of the tent, but remembering how unimpressed mother was with all the tomboyish stuff her daughter pulled only made watching Beppi all the more entertaining. He was clearly no novice to the art of acrobatics: He watched his feet with every landing, sinking down into a crouch once he made impact to spring all the way back up without employing pressure in the wrong spots. He spun weightlessly in the air and performed practiced flips, whooping and dancing and making all sorts of strange and laughable gestures towards her before the next bounce took him higher than the last. Just the sight of seeing him launching himself up so close to the already distant ceiling of the tent made Bon Bon’s stomach lurch.

She noticed very quickly that at the very top was a hole in the roof. She wondered if one could bounce so high as to peek out the very edge of it. The more Beppi bounced, the more he effortlessly climbed without a sliver of worry to his ascent. Bon Bon swallowed, squinting as she tried to look past the glare at the top; she swore she saw a bar poking up one of the edges, dangling something that she couldn’t quite make out.

Eventually, Beppi grew impatient with waiting for her. On his next impact he tucked his legs in as practiced but didn’t spring back up, instead curling himself like a falling cat to increase the dead weight of his mass. His following groundings diminished in height until he could safely hop into a safe skip towards her, panting and extending his hand once he was able to properly stand. He looked dizzy but satisfied- a look she attributed to other things, she shamefully noted. How the hell he hadn’t broken out into a sweat baffled and intrigued her.

The Baroness accepted the offer, but remained rooted on the sidelines when he attempted to pull her in. Beppi cackled, and gave a tug which swept her off her feet. They became chest to chest while he offered her a trusting grin and a fond rub on the small of her back. The slight rocking he employed, however, only burned her cheeks more as he set to get the trampoline’s momentum up again: if he was aware that the gesture was causing her front to rub against his then he honestly didn’t show it, instead humming while holding her close in an attempt to prepare her for the climb. Naturally, she clung to him with an uncertain wheeze while looking down at the sides of their legs. Bon Bon watched the fabric pull and warp beneath them as his heels dug in deep from the the pushing of his toes; she wondered if hers could do the same. She halted him with a firm pat on the shoulder, slipping away from his arms.

Beppi watched, hurt. His spirits quickly lifted again once she crouched down at the edge to start unlacing her summer boots. There was a strange sensation of tickling curiosity within him- her feet must be so dainty. They were, naturally, wiggling and pink as she stepped out to expose little beige socks that looked like slippers. Bon Bon adjusted the skirt of her summer dress and gave a wiggle and a tug to get comfy in her soft layers before she stepped back over to him. It was like watching a ballerina, poised and careful. He took her hands once more and was more than delighted to see that she was starting to rock her heels along with him. As the momentum built, he noticed that the soft pomp of hair upon her head began to sway heavily with her. Beppi lowered his eyes to admire the sway in her skirt, but winced and averted his gaze upon realizing it wasn’t just the dress itself that was starting to bounce. A hushed hum escaped her. He couldn’t tell if it was a knowing tut or a small giggle.

Their hands squeezed tighter once the rocking lifted them up enough to begin properly bouncing. He could employ a startling amount of power from his legs, but the clown chose to keep his movements synced with hers. She was the novice here, after all. Bon Bon was watching his form, trying to make out how deep the bend in his legs were from within the bagginess of his suit. The angle she was looking down from, however, suggested a far different connotation. He blinked, biting his lip to prevent himself from giggling like a child while giving her time to focus. She realized her mistake quickly when he couldn’t help himself in giving his hips a little wiggle. His smile remained kindly despite her huffing, which calmed her down as they shared a laugh. Barely dating and they were acting like teenagers. It was embarrassing.

She honestly felt so free.

On her mark, Bon sank down low. The clown watched her for a moment before he did the same with bated breath. On the count of three did they jump up together, landing almost in unison on the way down. A few experimental hops later caught them both up to speed, landing and springing back up together in unison. Higher and higher did their joined power take them, invigorated by Bon Bon’s unabashed laughter and Beppi’s twitterpated smile. The higher they ascended, the harder she started to cling to them once gravity began pulling them down and their butterflies up. With every launch he held her up like a dancer in a crest, and with each fall he clutched her tight while she embraced his warmth. 

She was so gorgeous when she ran free.

Likewise, he was so handsome when he protected her.

Eventually, the coveted top was right within their reach. Bon Bon glanced up, ignoring the sudden vertigo to realize that the dangling object was a trapeze. At this point knowing Beppi, this sort of reckless decorating honestly hadn’t surprised her. Despite their staggering heights, their efforts were still a good ways away from the hole in the ceiling with it’s dangling prize. The Baroness shook her head, amused at the audacity of it all before she looked to him.

Her face froze once she saw his confident grin.

She dug her fingers into his shoulder. He arranged his hands to be at her hips.

Bon Bon squealed at him on the way down, chastising his common sense while Beppi merely giggled. She wiggled in his embrace but the second his feet touched the pliant surface before hers, she knew her fight was moot. The clown unleashed the fullest extent of his power the second he sprung back up with complete stamina, rocketing them up into the air so fast that the walls blurred even harder together than before. She shrieked as he launched her up and out of his arms at the peak of their flight, and she glanced down to see him saluting while curling up to fall back to the earth below. The candied queen flailed and gasped, fighting for air in her fit of fear as the space around her turned queasy from the mixing colors and wind screeching in her ears...but instinct commanded her hands to act, gripping the bar faster than her rattled brain could catch up.

Her teeth were chattering along with the shaking in her tucked legs as she clung to the trapeze, wheezing as the world grew still. Fearfully, her eyes struggled to open. They first saw the paled extent of her arms, moving upward to finally process that she had stopped herself from falling to her doom. Bon Bon sobbed out a single exhale, thankful. She couldn’t stomach the thought of looking down right now.

She took a moment to air out the thundering in her chest so she could look up again. Glancing up was certainly easier than the alternative. She noticed that the insanity transcended deeper: Dangling from the knot which held the neck of the trapeze was another handle to something. Perhaps it was the rigging to lower her back to the bottom. Bon Bon furrowed her brows, bit her lip and grunted to herself on how she was going to smack the rest of his face red once she returned as she reached up.

The pull didn’t yield to her automatically, bringing forth another question on if the damn thing was broken. Frustrated (and growing numb in her grip), she tugged it again. Something clanked and ripped, hissing and rumbling far beneath her at the bottom, much to her delight. She steeled herself with bated breath as she finally smoothed her nerves enough to look down.

She saw not a soft descent in her rope but instead, balloons. Hundreds of balloons, drifting up from places she couldn’t even make out due to the sheer volume in their number. Perhaps even a thousand balloons, from how quickly the mass of them swelled, floating slowly and bumping into one another like sleepy jellyfish. Bon Bon’s jaw dropped as she watched them. Their number was unsettling in how fast they were reaching her, but their colors were soft and warm- rose pinks and soft cappuccino browns. She realized the tones resonated from her own color scheme, complimenting the frazzled puffs of her curly hair and the flushed warmth of her face as they floated on by to start drifting out through the great hole above her. 

They tickled her legs and arms as they bumped and squeaked around her, but the Baroness didn’t mind them. Her eyes twinkled at the sweet innocence of it all, though they turned even mistier once she could pick out a more striking mass of colors floating up among them. She sighed at the white gloved hand that reached out from beyond the masses, and leaned into the strength of its arm as it looped around her; she didn’t even realize that it had been gripping a string of its own until the balloon attached to it leaned down to nuzzle and kiss along her forehead. Beppi’s free hand clutched the trapeze bar with her, holding her close in a tucked embrace while she eased up enough in her grip to comfortably lounge with him.

Finally, the bar began to slowly descend. 

She was nervous in letting go of the grip she had established, but she was at least comfortable enough to move one hand to help guide his balloon head back to its resting place. Bon Bon glanced away out of politeness while Beppi’s face readjusted back to its usual form. His smile was just as infectious as before when she glanced back; the light smack to his cheek surprised him pleasantly, however.

Bon Bon nestled back into his hold, as they gripped the bar and entwined their legs. She quietly implored him to not let her fall.

He promised to always take it for her.

By the time they touched the blessed bottom of the tent, Beppi had curled himself enough to act out his promise. He let go of the trapeze the moment his rear end touched the stretched fabric of the trampoline, rolling back with the Baroness in tow. They lay together in a pleasant heap, both panting lightly for air while looking up at the flickering lights trying to dart through the massive migration far above them. Bon Bon found peace in appreciating them now, placing her right hand in the nook between his chin and frill. The warm skin pulsed wildly beneath her fingers as she marveled at yet another sweet bit of handiwork he had no doubt been hiding for ages. How did he have so many marvels just tucked away, primed for the right moments? She couldn’t even fathom the setup nor the giddiness in waiting for a moment like this for her particularly in his favor. 

She tore her eyes away from the pleasant surprise, realizing her face was only inches away from his own as he watched her while still catching his breath. It was the face of a man who over exerted but achieved bliss. It was an expression that zapped something white hot in the pit of her belly, and she felt silly for even daring to compare such a sight to a thought in her head.

Coughing out the awkwardness, she asked him how long.

The clown sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, admitting he had planned this on the night before he made her cake. That brought the lump in her throat to dive right down with the hot rocks in her gut. Bon Bon admitted a tiny “oh” in shame at the revelation, sitting up to cross her arms and look away. That night…

For once, she decided not to stew on it. Instead, she looked up at the current moment, at the hundreds of pink and soft brown balloons that reminded her of cookies, of ice cream and hand dipped chocolates and strawberry macarons...and of course, the dreaming princess cake that started this adventure. The more she thought, the less she felt the biting tightness in her neck and the sickened heaviness in her head. The more she considered, the more she paid attention to the dampness of her palms, of the sinful heat pooling in her core and of the hard drumming she felt in her ears at the reminder of one word that both prompted her madness and had broken her chains.

_Red._

And as she glanced down, she saw in his gaze the same fear and overwhelming emotion of a troubled being who had both hurt and been hurt from a very worrying source.

No more. She wanted to chase that high again.

She looked to Beppi, as he did to her, before they both noticed exactly where she was sitting atop of him. He was glad only half of his face could hide the redness pooling there, but she wasn’t so lucky. Beppi made haste to move out from under her, but ceased upon feeling her palms pressing firmly on his chest. They lingered there, tapping restlessly and gripping at his suit while her thoughts spun, but they rested not where they were. He felt them crawling up his arms like spiders to grip his wrists, pushing his palms firmly against the sloping mounds of her chest to try and draw out feeling in them again. Her eyes were closed and her cheeks were as red as his suit, but her hold on his cuffs were unrelenting and precise. The moment of surprise kickstarted a moment of innocent stupidity within him. The cogs in his brain scraped and shivered against each other as he fought to relearn what squeezing and rubbing were like as he obeyed her silent command.

The sound that came from her pierced his heart like an arrow. It was the end of resolve in his being as she leaned back down to kiss him, seeking to see if his heart were up to feeling like the fireworks she felt as they jumped.

Once soft grind against his hips later, and his fire obliged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Rollercoaster" by Bon Jovi was a good audio inspiration for this chapter. I recommend giving it a listen if you like love songs with a more rapid, upbeat manner!
> 
> I will not outright put out smut due to personal comforts, so take the end as you will. :) The most I will do is some teasing and hints.
> 
>  
> 
> As always, my blog is available for story requests, additional comments or questions regarding the strange ideas I have.  
> socks-on-parade.tumblr.com


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While coming to terms with her own sense of peace, Bon Bon makes a disheartening discovery about Djimmi. 
> 
> Fortunately, she has a clown who can help fix that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for taking two months to update this. Have a 10k word chapter on me. :')
> 
> Bon Bon gets some love, Beppi gets some love but most importantly, Djimmi finally gets his moment of happiness too. <3 I'll leave Dice and the Devil for the next chapter; this one was enough of a rollercoaster.
> 
> (Also none of the jokes I used in this were made by me.)

It had all happened so fast.

By the time the last of the multi-hundred balloon migration had pushed its way out of the ceiling of the bounce house, the amorous tango had finished.

But it had still gone so quickly. Faster than a heartbeat or the blink of an eye.

Bon Bon’s eyes were focused on nothing in particular as her mind ran rampant, trying to piece together the timeline of her insanity ever since the day of the princess cake. 20 years had felt so long in retrospect, but that was really just a sleep-and-a-wakeup call compared to the rapid evolution of her new relationship with Beppi. In only so few of days had they corroded as rivals and fallen to a frenzy of hormones and emotions, dancing around timid embers of old memories and growing revelations. They had evolved from crying like survivors of war to hugging to holding hands, from laughter to kissing to...this...far too fast for her to even comprehend.

Her mother, curse her soul, would have called it as it was. A harlot, playing dressup as a princess. But did Bon Bon care? At this point, not a damn bit.

She was finally learning to welcome the insanity.

Her body ached as she sat up, and her chest tingled as she made moves to adjust the corset that had been sewn into her summer dress. Her chest felt a flutter when fingers that were not her own gently scraped along her back to relace the ribbons that had tied it all together. A soft coo sounded off behind the Baroness, deepinging in pitch like a tiger’s purr. It was invigorating; it stoked her pride in a post-hormonal fire. 

Bon Bon didn’t even need to turn in order to know that he was smiling at her. For all the countless bouts they had tussled in, she knew all of his calls and quirks. How he smiled with savage glee when a prank blossomed in sweet chaos, to the glint in his eyes that sparked the moment he saw a window of opportunity. He was vivacious and reckless, but Beppi was no fool. Ironic, it was. There must have been a fragment of his soul still crackling inside that fuzzy suit that the Devil hadn’t been able to scratch out just yet. During the...intimate hugging they did, Beppi had demonstrated remarkable patience and a willingness to adapt off of her. He had been stupefied beneath her weight during the sudden bout of wanton grinding, but came alive the moment she commanded his hands to settle upon her chest. It kept him busy enough for her to play with the zipper on his collar that had been hidden away for so long.

Rumors had persisted for ages that even she fell privy to, in regards to whether Beppi was by default a clownish man or a separate species altogether. Tugging the zipper down to his navel had sliced enough of his suit open to put those silly rumors to rest. She remembered the primal shiver racing up her spine and tickling her throat as clean heat wafted out to kiss her fingers. She had been smiling foolishly at the same rosey skin that matched her own, peppered here and there by the faintest patches of hair along his pecs and down his belly in a clean line. Beppi had personified his empire in the smells of his suit; it picked up anything and stubbornly clung to scents. They both were a lot alike in that regard. Bon Bon could still smell the lingering aromas of funnel cakes and salted caramel, though that was for any plain Jane to notice. Her fingers curled deep into the bunches of his suit around the sides when she had taken her first inhale of his real, natural smell.

It was as husky an aroma that she had desired in any man. His chest had been kneaded raw during a silky coo of approval, her lips shifting in a dreamy grin while savoring the lightest tinges of sweat fighting the more pleasant traces soap along warm skin.

She had been expecting him to play hard right then and there, but his doting giddiness continued to surprise her. He had held onto her like a teddy bear during the affair, petting his fingers in heated sweeps along the entirety of her torso, from collar to saddle while holding her close. The trampoline yielded abysmally to their movements, resulting in more than one instance of pinched nerves and bruising upon impact. In the end it didn’t matter; Beppi kissed every spot better.

She finally turned to glance back at him. He remained sitting behind her, suit clinging haphazardly on one shoulder while the rest hung limp like a shed skin. The colors on his face had actually ended just past the points of his collarbones, and yet it remained plastered on his face as a hexxed warpaint. It had remained perfectly pristine under the craziness of it all, unyielding to both sweat and smearing alike in reflection to the same discoveries she made during their first snuggling experience. Regardless, as goofy as it looked on him...Bon Bon decided he was still handsome in his own way. The way he was watching her with that sweet awestruck gaze certainly matched the dreamy smile snaking around his lips. 

They regarded each other with a quiet shyness and a polite refusal to look at anywhere else but the neck up. Beppi was the first to sheepishly chuckle, but he held still when it was her turn to fix his suit and zip it back up with doting sweetness. Words should have been exchanged, but it was far easier on the knots in their throats to instead just press their foreheads together while they both sighed contently.

Bon Bon was braver than he. While choking back an amused wheeze, she eventually asked him if the balloons had been worth it. Dumbstruck, he nodded slowly as he defaulted to bubbly giggles. What pleased her more about the answer was the steadfast transparency in it; the sex hadn’t been an ulterior goal. Beppi was looking at her like a man smitten rather than a rival who won his prize. If anything, it had been the best lay of her life because of that. She slipped back into his embrace, falling slowly with him back onto the springy mats of the trampoline to continue enjoying the afterglow.

He walked her back to the mouth of his carnival once the sun had set. They stood together at the boundary between their shared territory, holding hands in anxious rebellion. It was so silly now, in retrospect. They fought for years over the same space that had since bled into itself. His tents had gradually settled dangerously close to the edges of her kingdom, and her candied trees and cupcake stands dotted across his sections of the park like freckles on the island. It had all been attempts to one-up each other and grate the nerves, but now everything felt like the pieces all belonged. Regardless, Beppi had reservations of just waltzing back up to her gate again. He halted when he saw the guards stationed outside. Bon Bon lightly jerked at the dead weight suddenly holding her hand, frowning when she looked between them. The candies had their peppermint polearms already raised while the clown looked like he was reliving a war flashback. She let go of his hand, not pursuing when Beppi took a few steps back.

It was silly, but he hadn’t gotten over the cake to his face just yet. 

He wasn’t afraid of her territory, but standing at the mouth of it with its queen by his side brought back more anxieties than it was worth. He rubbed the back of his head while piddling out some excuse that the guards would find him to be quite the sour treat if he went back; his frill puffed up as the poor joke earned him a soft giggle. The Baroness stepped back to pat his shoulder as she offered a gentle smile, but he noticed she kept her back turned to her guards.

She didn’t want them to see her face. His frown started to fall again, but he managed to return the smile back to her.

They didn’t kiss goodbye. Not even a handshake. He could still see those beady little sugar eyes staring at him from atop waffle cone towers. Bon Bon’s oen were set to a tone of sad apology as she started to part from him. A wave of panic electrocuted his nerves- was this the end? 

He played with his hands while their distance grew. A miasma of fresh heat had pooled in his gut to remind him of what they had just done when his gaze accidentally settled on her rear. His throat felt tighter behind his frill as he watched the guards opening the gates in advance, still keeping their distrusting gazes set upon them; they weren’t forgiving his sneaking around their patrols just yet. 

Beppi was fidgeting terribly when she was close enough to them to hold a decent conversation if she so wanted. She didn’t. Instead, she lingered in the entryway, staring at the patch of ground where dried cake frosting and crumbs still lingered. She remained frozen as her own thoughts carried her to places only she knew of, but they quickly snuffed themselves. The clown and candied queen gave each other a shared look of what he accepted as mutual pining. She, from her royal grounds like the proud monarch that she was...and he, a fool of many colors no matter how fortunate he had become. The words died in his throat long before they ever had the chance to be born, but he still found rebellion in mouthing out the movements to three specific words that had long been overdue. And it worked. Silent but sure, Bon Bon waited until her sentries had their focus diverted elsewhere so she could lean back and give him a sly wink before she disappeared into the depths of Sugarland.

Her pace was steadfast; she didn’t want anyone to slow her down. The castle was still reeling from her outburst of revelation in the parlor, and not even her own father had the stones to show his face as she wandered through the halls. Marshmallow maids and toffee butlers all averted their eyes from her as she stalked past, but she could still hear the curious whispers haunting the corridors. They probably all thought she was weak. They probably thought she had finally grown so mad that insanity crept up from the pits of rage to finally consume her.

She could only imagine the words they must have been saying.

_The Baroness is going soft._

_She’s a joke. Just like him._

_Harlot._

They scattered before her as she approached, billowing the flames of her paranoia the faster they escaped her presence. Others plainly dropped whatever was in their sticky little hands as they avoided her gaze and whined as she stomped beyond them.

_Our end is near!_

The waffle took flight after she rounded a corner. Timid cookie guards peered at her from behind vases and tapestries.

_She’ll feed us to the clown!_

A trio of gumball machines scattered when she threw open a door, spilling their candies in a frenzied rain as she stared, wide eyed and panting in the doorway.

_She’s gone mad with lust!_

The castle was as silent as a graveyard and yet the illusory voices screamed and panicked inside of her head. Her vision swam green and blurry as she stumbled up the steps to her personal quarters.

_Purge the Baroness! Traitorous queen!_

Bon Bon scrambled to get a proper hold on her doorknob. Her palms were sweating bullets beneath the satin of her gloves.

**_TRAITOR!_ **

She slammed the door shut and threw her body upon it, shaking as the voices finally stopped. Through the pounding of her ears, Bon Bon feared she heard a distant chuckling before it faded. She closed her eyes and brought her palms up to cup her cheeks. Her legs shook like custard, threatening to sink her under the blazing heat of her demons. The Baroness wheezed and whimpered as she struggled to catch her breath.

Her vanity loomed across the room from her, exposing the terror in her face as she slumped. Bon Bon blinked at it when she found the strength to unfold herself. Staring back at her was the face of a vulnerable woman. No wonder her subjects feared for her: The fingertips of her gloves had been rubbed raw from the rough texture of the trampoline, but they didn’t know that. All they saw were daggered claws threatening to pierce through. The hickeys Beppi left looked like ugly bruises around her neck. 

The visage of him dulled the throbbing in her chest. The room felt truly quiet again as she listened to the ghostly laughter of two decades’ worth of memories. Gentle croons, booming cackles...sweet, nattering little giggles...Bon Bon’s brows lifted from their furrowed state. She slowly approached the mirror, and took a heavy seat at her vanity. A soft pout formed on her lips as she watched her own hand slink up to gingerly dab at a dark blue smudge near her collarbone. She could see the stubborn indents where his teeth had threatened to burrow.

A tingle of adrenaline prickled at her skin; she gasped soundlessly from the rogue sting of lingering pleasure.

Slowly, a smile began to dawn on her face again. It was slightly crooked, lifting to one side as she choked on the beginnings of her own giggles. She was a mess. But he...Beppi had everything figured out just fine. His laughter, so infectious. His smile, so inspiring. The way he bounced and danced for every tedious, trivial occasion...how he treated all his toys with the utmost respect and the power he exhumed in seeing joy through the eyes of others…

Her lips mimicked the ghostly incantations of the three words he had mouthed to her, and she watched her eyes grow misty. 

I love you.

Bon Bon heard it in his voice, low and cracking in feeble attempts to safeguard the humanity still smoldering behind it. She had heard that same tone in the bounce house after expecting Beppi to retain the giggly higher pitches he always had. But it had shone there as it had in the previous moments where he had calmed enough whenever her beauty and charms bewitched him.

Red...your voice, so sweet.

Sweet as dark chocolate, tart and dry in parts while causing the taste buds to salivate. Sweet as the almondy earthiness of warm marzipan settling upon a flaky cookie. His real, true voice was so warm and enveloping. It held promises of things she had yet to see.

She had certainly been crumbling lately...and his truer colors certainly had awoken dormant hungers.

Bon Bon was smiling dreamily to herself in the mirror, allowing the silence of the room to swim with the soft operas of her fantasies. His laughter and terrible jokes had by now felt less agitating and far more welcoming to her mind. The Baroness began to dabble with her makeup as she recounted old puns and punchlines over the years, giggling louder while dutifully applying foundation to the hickey spots along her neck.

“What do you call an owl who becomes a magician?” She asked herself in the mirror. The reflection shrugged and leaned in. Bon Bon snorted and laughed in response to it, cupping her mouth while wheezing out the rest.

“A Hootdini!” 

She never used to laugh at Beppi’s groaning sense of humor. Now she was almost teetering off her stool as she cackled to herself. The servants down below had more than enough evidence now to believe her descent into utter lunacy. She paid nothing in the world any mind but her own amusement as she worked on covering up the bruise marks; it was for the public, not her. This experiment was more to see if she could mask something she’d gladly wear as battle wounds if needed.

She tapped the end of an eyeliner brush to her lips as she stared at herself, grinning like a sultry lass who had just caught the eye of a suitor. She nibbled on the end, quirking a brow and flipping part of her hair. Oh yes, that look, right there. That would surely come in handy soon.

“What sort of underpants do clouds wear?” She hissed while wrinkling her nose, already derailing any credibility that sexy look held. Here it was, her fall into lowbrow comedy. Beppi really was corrupting her.

A soft meow drew her attention down to greet her whipped cream cat, Meringue. The fluffy white persian was sitting upright during her attempt to tap her owner’s thigh with a paw. She meowed again while she swept her large plume of a tail against the floor. Bon Bon scooped her up and held her like a baby while lightly tapping that cute pink nose.

“Well, do you know?” She asked. Meringue twitched a few whiskers. Her owner laughed quietly while settling the animal onto her lap. “Thunderwear, silly.”

As she was brushing her hair, Bon Bon began to hum tunes of old pipe music that the fairgrounds always played at night. It was eerie not to hear it, though she must have been the only soul to fathom why. Her own notes were better than nothing.

Eventually her hair brush sank its teeth into her cat’s fur, brushing out all of the ants and dust that enjoyed settling in the whipped cream fluff. Meringue joined in with singing of her own, purring contently on her owner’s legs while nattering occasionally. The cat was the first between them to notice something was amiss, no doubt employing her superior animal hearing over a silly human’s. She pushed herself up into a sit, folding one ear back as large blue eyes looked at the windows. Bon Bon held the brush above her, curious. She allowed the candied animal to hop off of her lap but did not pursue her immediately; there was squishy hair all over her dress now. The Baroness reached for the towel she kept next to the wash bowl, dabbing it in the cool water. A soft tut was sent Meringue’s way but the cat didn’t seem to care. The animal was perched by the windowed patio door, pawing at the glass and mewling at it. 

Once her lap was dabbed free of animal shed did the Baroness put everything aside to stand and follow her pet. She stood behind Meringue, looking down at her but not for long. It took a few moments, but she heard it. It was faint but yet so distant, like wind chimes dancing along the breeze. The tone was deeper than her own imitation, bouncing between high and low notes in a pattern too erratic to be the music of a street magician. Her eyes widened upon realizing the actual name for the noise, and carefully shooed the cat out of the way in order to pull open the door.

The nightly summer chill bade her welcome as she stepped out onto the balcony, which was mercifully void of noisy winds so that the full extent of the sounds could be heard. Bon Bon stared off into the distance, and smiled as a breath of relief escaped her.

She leaned against the glazed railing just as she did many nights before, ignoring the sleepy grumbling of the castle as she watched the familiar lights that had for days been snuffed. She propped an elbow up and nestled her cheek against an upturned palm, cooing along with the notes she recognized from the famous calliopes of the fairgrounds. Though they were but ants from this distance, being able to see the park guests excitedly filing back in to rejoin the wonders that they had missed helped put great comfort back into her heart.

The circus was alive again. Beppi was ok. She was going to be ok…

And perhaps she could outwardly admit that she was starting to love him with an intensity as bright as those twinkling carnival lights.

So, it began. 

Every day she would find reasons to sneak out from Sugarland, after the gates were opened and she provided some face time for her own guests. Their secret meetings remained out of view and in the dark, but that was fine by her for the time being. She’d slink in through different routes every time, from the side entrances through the parks to the footpaths along the boardwalk. Bon Bon stuck out like a sore thumb in the park, drawing forth unwarranted attention from many of the visitors. But she didn’t care about their rumors and drama. She began to busy herself every day with examining the wares along the stalls or looking around at the colors and sounds with looks of feigned disinterest. Beppi kept his distance at the start of every date, but gradually closed in with little hints of detours she could take to reach him: pink ribbons tied to various objects to highlight a path, specific smells of chocolate wafting from certain attractions...one day an ex-penguin of hers waddled out to greet and guide her. She’d follow the signals at a slow pace so as to not draw too much of a distraction in the environment, but by the end of the fourth consecutive day of these sneaks did she begin to mentally map out all of the secret paths she could dip off into between the tents and displays. 

They kept their sweet affairs behind closed doors. In the off chance that their gazes met before the hunt began, the duo resumed the usual rivalrous animosity that the audiences had been expecting. Words were thrown and fake punches flew like two mad hares in a hormonal bout. Those encounters ceased fast once a mutual schedule of sorts had been decided between them- dusk was dandy, and nighttime the best. The twilight hours seemed to bring the dreaming zone-outs faster in the visitors to where even the Devil himself could stroll in and not raise hairs. Once she found him (and was she getting good at deducing his routes) was when the guises slipped and her more true colors show.

She had prided herself for years in her stony exterior. Many men had fancied her for her wealth and looks. Somehow, all it took was for a silly clown with sappy endearments to catapult Cupid’s thick stones at her defenses. In the privacy of Beppi’s tent, she learned to kiss him with brazen pride. They spent many evenings in his bed, above the covers in affectionate embraces while talking over one another in bubbly recountings over their foolish days. Beppi would bring in treats from the outside, treating her to all the boons of the fairgrounds that he himself enjoyed dining on. They held hands as they ate, and on some nights what was intended to be a relaxing dinner turned into food fights or saucy puns involving food.

The intimacy came more naturally. By the second experience, Bon Bon had felt safe enough to not stifle herself under the loud atmosphere outside of his canvas walls. By the third, she had succeeded in luring him out of the confines of his suit. The muscle in his limbs had been expected; she found she rather enjoyed petting (and moreso teasing) the light pudge he had on his belly. Beppi vehemently denied his carnival diet being at fault for that one. It made, however, for a good pillow after the fires of passion dwindled away.

When the early mornings came, just before dawn poked its shining fingers over the horizon, the couple crept out of the confines of tents and rigging to play along the fairgrounds. Bon Bon felt safer here. It was easier to bond with him over roller coasters and pie throwing than the endless pristine beauty of Sugarland. Her home felt like a museum to be sampled and savored. His own was a wonderland where the spirit ran free. They would spend more late night romps kissing at the top of the ferris wheel or locked into such a snug embrace in the love tunnel that sleep often crept in behind them. She made a habit to stare dreamily into his eyes as she rode on her favorite carousel pony while he stood valiantly across her; they both gripped the same spot on the pole, free hands laced together.

The only thing that ruined her childish romps with the clown was the amount of secrecy it all entailed. The islands weren’t ready to accept that two legendary enemies were suddenly in cahoots with one another. As sweet and sugary as it was, her Sugarland had been run with a lemon-sour fist for years. Her servants had long trembled under her wrath, as did her visitors stay within polite behaviors when nibbling within reasonable limits on her reserves. There was nothing she wanted more now, than to bring Beppi to the place he no doubt had been fawning over for years. If a child could feel such a wanton longing for a kingdom of literal desserts, then who was she to say that the man who gave his old life for a circus had never let go of that fantasy either? But Bon Bon couldn’t bring herself to take the hammer to her glass house of bad habits. Not yet.

Her minions had been conditioned to wallop his ass into the next kingdom if they even saw so much as a hint of the clown’s presence on her grounds. Her father still struggled under the strange hexxed amnesia that forced him to forget that once upon a time he had invited the man known as Red into his humble abode and encouraged him to enjoy the sweeter things in life. What was worse than all of that was herself. She had woven herself to be a monster of a tyrant under the Devil’s curse, like some spider of a queen who lurked in the shadows under the promises of sweet things. Oh, how many poor flies had succumbed to her toxic fangs…

But, in due time. If Beppi could wait over half of his life to be with her, then a month or two more of planning and waiting wouldn’t kill him. Just seeing the twinkle of purpose in his eyes was enough for her. It was a beautiful thing.

When their dates came to reluctant endings, he always walked her back to the edge of their invisible boundary line. Beppi never overstepped the spots he had marked in his brain, and he always lurked in the shadows of the trees after that intense evening where he failed at expressing his love in words. The wait of watching her walk away without so much as a goodbye or a hug...that almost killed him right there where he stood if the holes burned into him by the guards hadn’t already been poised. But there had been something so bewitching about the wink. It was like a whip that had snapped some sense back into him and pulverized the rocks in his head. He had giddily stood there like a blithering idiot until she had disappeared before he took to hopping and whooping as if he had just won the ultimate prize...or the greatest contest, depending on whose viewpoint was to tell right there. He hightailed it the moment candied polearms began stamping the ground.

He reluctantly learned to allow her to slip from his embrace without protest, watching her figure growing smaller until the Sugarland gates ate her up. But Beppi learned of her own cues very quickly; he remained until he saw the lights flickering on in her tower room. The moment her tiny figure stepped out did he tip his hat to her even if she couldn’t feasibly see it. It was the gesture that mattered, that she was now looking out for him.

The only thing that seemed out of place to Bon Bon during their encounters was that she never saw Djimmi’s tent opened when she came and went. Surely the genie and the clown had reconciled at some point when she hadn’t been at the fairgrounds- Beppi seemed fine again. At least, as fine as a mad clown with amnesia could be. 

It was another sunny morning that she found herself upon her balcony, nibbling on a cupcake as she looked out at the joined kingdoms before her. Before the chaos of recent events, Djimmi always had the doors to his iconic pyramid tent open. He loved company. It seemed to her that ever since the big outburst in his smaller secondary tent within the actual fairgrounds...the genie had all but disappeared from this mortal world.

Bon Bon pouted and lowered the pastry before she could take another bite. It was becoming increasingly harder these days to control her thinking. The more happy she felt, the quicker the teeth of shame snapped at her fears from whatever dark pit they lurked inside her mind. She knew that she was to blame somewhere in the situation, though how much was uncertain. 

The old Bon Bon would have just shrugged it off and spat in his direction for being so weak. Those were terrible days behind her. 

The rest of the cupcake was left on the balcony floor for Meringue as she turned heel to head back inside.

Being able to stare at a tent at a safe distance was one thing. She felt something entirely different in being able to stand directly in front of it about a half hour later. Sweltering under the summer sun in her canary chiffon sundress, The Baroness squinted from under the shelter of a ribboned straw hat. She was used to peering inside the opened flaps to marvel at all the tomes and scrolls piled up around the fortune table. Being shut out to that unnerved her. In place of his usually charming presence was a sign that Djimmi had put out at some point during his exile. It was a painting of artistic merit upon a crudely assembled alignment of boards, advertising all of his services under an even cartoonier depiction of his grinning face. Fortune telling, tarot readings, palm deductions... somehow, the smile on the sign was more unnerving than the disappearance of its missing owner. She glanced around discreetly, finding a few passerby halting for a moment to stare at the advertisement as well.

Bon Bon sighed quietly, inhaled sharply through her nose and raised her fist to...rap at the flappy door, she supposed.

It peeled open before her knuckles even grazed upon it.

She reeled back, almost falling off her heels as Djimmi regarded her tiredly, pipe drooping dangerously low from his mouth. The old sage looked like he hadn’t slept in centuries: it was the way he carried himself, from the heavy slouch to his shoulders to the heavyset grogginess to his eyes as he looked down at her. Otherwise, the magician looked the same as he always did, brighter than a cherry and taut in the skin. Eternal life must be quite the doozy on the ole’ epidermis, it seemed. Still, he smiled politely at her despite her startled stare. The genie nodded and moved aside to invite her in.

The overwhelming spice of incense burned her senses faster than it took her to notice the lack of light. Bon Bon pinched her nose to snuff the stinging and deny any watering to her eyes before she actively looked around the room to count the number of dim candles flickering at her. The place looked like the site of a cultist ritual, both in mood and the number of arcane symbols scrawled over many of the tome piles and stacks of exotic artifacts. Djimmi made a light gesture for her to sit upon one of the cushions while he announced he was going to prepare some tea. Afraid that she was about to sit on a bursting rune of sorts, Bon Bon slowly took a seat.

Thankfully, no magic hijinks came.

Djimmi disappeared into the labyrinth of his dusty heirlooms, and Bon Bon swore it was the yowling of a cat she heard as he swatted something away. She glanced around the room as she waited but nothing was as interesting in that moment as were the pearly contents swirling around the crystal ball on the table before her. Perplexed, she leaned in. So many mysteries of time and space, swimming through there like honey in milk…

A light cough pulled her away from her thoughts.

Djimmi loomed above her like a pyramid of drying crimson, looking so utterly muddied and worn down by the passing minutes while he held a well used tray in his large hands. She leaned back so that he could place it before her on the table before he moved to take his seat on the other side. The Baroness looked between the cup of steaming tea (which in this lighting looked as black as oil) and a small saucer of honey- no doubt a spicier blend from a sun dried flower worlds away from here. She made use of her hands in managing her awkwardness, collecting just enough of the sticky syrup onto the spoon to submerge into her drink. Djimmi watched her quietly across the table as he chewed on the mouthpiece of his pipe. She noticed a strange lack of spirit in his eyes despite his eternal pleasantries: he looked like a man waiting out the last of a visitation before he went to the gallows. It unnerved her greatly.

He seemed to come alive again as she tilted the brim of the cup to kiss her lips. The genie cleared his throat again and instead looked into the crystal ball. Despite the off-color presence on his features, his tone still retained its soothing purr as he asked her if she had come for another fortune reading. Somehow this meeting was more distressing than the last. But, the Baroness played along for the sake of his sanity. She nodded once while folding her hands into her lap.

She replied that she hoped he was faring well. He must have known the world outside was questioning his absence, for his eyes darkened when he looked up at her. It was the first time she had ever seen the lack of light peering out from the abyss of his pupils; it was as if something tormenting him had swallowed them up. Djimmi was silent for a moment until another offputting smile graced his features. He rolled the pipe from one end of his mouth to the other with a push of his tongue, sitting upright and fixing his turban. He replied that he had been keeping up with the whispers of the universe.

Bon Bon furrowed her brows and asked him what that meant.

Her spine stiffened up as he looked at her again, this time with a tone frozen with emptiness as he chuckled that the winds had been whispering interesting things to him.

She bit her lip as he watched her for a moment, glancing into the ball when her distress must have been loud enough to beg. He chuckled softly and attempted to play his behavior off as a lack of sleep, but the Baroness highly doubted that an immortal being required such a thing. They both uncomfortably stared into the misty contents of the crystal ball as he took a moment to hum and roll his head around once upon his shoulders. She wanted to believe it was some divining trick. Her mortal eyes were too stupid to the wonders of magic to see, but Djimmi filled her in as he hummed and stared hard into the sphere.

Bluntly, almost dismissively, he stated that her future looked bright. He could see many days of happiness ahead of her, under blue skies and red sunsets. She was destined for many wonderful adventures, with bouncing joy and days full of fair love and laughter-

Bon Bon had to put her hand atop one of his own to stop the increasing tension building in his voice. Despite always having it on his oft warm features, Djimmi’s grin was struggling not to snap the pipe in half between his teeth as his fingers quivered above the ball. His biggest weakness was not his inability to deny someone happiness, but in his own honesty. The genie’s eyes watered as they looked to her hand, and he lowered his own to fist them gently on the table. He lowered his head in shame.

Bon Bon didn’t know what to say. She had never seen Djimmi as anything other than kind and at the best of times, ornery. For he to cry, the one soul on this island who could literally conjure spontaneous wealth and wordly desires out of thin air...it must be a pain that had run deeper than any she had ever known. Bon Bon swallowed, trying to find what to say. She ultimately couldn’t, no matter how hard she tried.

Djimmi stared hard at the table, ashamed that his own emotions had leaked out to her. But it was as he feared, and it was one of the plethora of reasons that he had sealed himself away in here, not to meddle in the affairs of his beloved but to prevent anyone from seeing how weak and pitiful he himself was. 

All the fortunes in the world could not fill the vastness of a broken heart.

After an eternity of heavy seconds, he apologized to her.

Bon Bon still found herself without words, watching him as if she had never seen him before. This behavior was not at all like him. Djimmi sat up a bit straighter, turning his palm so that he could properly hold the hand that pierced his shell. He stroked his large thumb over it after she reluctantly offered it again, and he almost amused at the differences in size between them.

Finally, she asked if he was alright. It was a simple question, inoffensive yet showed enough compassion to really care. It baffled him; she had changed so much.

It was easy to make up an excuse. He had spent centuries studying the arts of persuasion behind scrying. His words were golden threads among soothing silk. He could tell her that there was a mountain of gold sitting outside his tent right now and have her believe every word of it by the time she stood up. He could say that an ephemeral bout of fatigue had managed to weave its way between the splinters of his bones after he wrestled with a box of magical tools, or that an ethereal curse had dripped its way out of a scroll and buried itself into the core of his being. Hell, he could just admit that he was dying right then and there and still hold his dignity in feeling alone. Djimmi felt the sting of guilt hissing into his ear like a devious cobra; Bon Bon had done nothing wrong to him, and as such she deserved no such lies. To feel that he had been wronged from Beppi choosing her instead of him was no better than holding a trapped bird in his hand and being angry at being bitten. He could explain the steps spirits took along the paths of prophecy but Djimmi had no business in making his own deductions on why the spirits of others worked the way they did.

Instead, he simply squeezed her hand and admitted that he could feel better about the world, but that was life. She let her lips fall from their concerned pout to an opened one of revelation when he mentioned he hoped that she was happy and had found peace with Beppi.

Bon Bon started to breathe in, but pushed it all out as her thoughts took precedence. Something felt a little too uncanny about the fortunes he tried declaring to her.

It felt less of a prophetic reading and more like…

The Baroness exhaled a shaky sigh, and brought her hands up to cover her face.

“...please don’t tell me.” She started, but it was more of a feeble attempt to stop her own brain from overgeneralizing. That killed. That was what made her early ancestors foam at the mouth after deciding the innocent looking berries appeared too tasty to be deadly. Quick impressions told the careless that the delicious molten chocolate in her pond was too innocent to have actual scales and claws lurking beneath it. 

Anything was a better idea than to know now that, through no awareness of her own, she unknowingly had taken Beppi away from another who loved him as much as she loved her. After all the shit she had pulled, she honestly felt she didn’t deserve the clown. Beppi very well could have ended up in the arms of a genie of all god damn things, and one that laughed like a lullaby and spoiled like a sponsor.

It was soul breaking enough, having realized that Beppi of all souls was capable of weeping like a baby. It hurt more than just her head to know that even the immortal could bleed.

Bon Bon leaned back and pressed her fingers to her temples. In contrast, Djimmi slumped in his spot, this time looming over his own propped elbows while lacing his fingers together. 

He couldn’t give a straight answer to her prompt, but the best he could do was a soft mumble of hope that Beppi was finally feeling like he had won the best prize of them all in his strange, colorful little world. 

The Baroness didn’t answer that either. She feared that for once, she didn’t know if she had the power to crush another’s hopes like that.

Djimmi didn’t know how he felt when their session was cut short. The candied queen gave him a simple nod to his ramblings and pardoned herself to leave. Perhaps it was better this way, than to drag things out with false promises or worst, accusations. She was tired of that. She was tired of fighting her own history by now. She placed her hand again upon him, this time on his shoulder as she apologized. For what, neither knew.

The genie watched her leave as he cupped a cheek. He was terrible. He was a failure. He couldn’t even control himself for ten minutes in the face of his own jealousy. He rubbed his tired eyes and spat out his pipe without a care as to where it rolled off to. She was going to run far away from here, disowning him for his bitterness and lack of faith. She was going to run right into the arms of a soul who was pined for by another. He could envision her teeth nicking Beppi’s skin to lay claim to what she now owned. Djimmi shivered at images of her fingers, tearing through that suit to rake across pale flesh in a feral testament as to who now had him in her clutches. He hadn’t the heart to even tell her that she had smelled of the circus and other sinful things when she wandered into his home. He doubted Bon Bon would have taken lightly to that if his own sorrows had shown to their fullest advantage.

But...as long as Beppi was finally happy with his world, then Djimmi supposed he had done everything he could as a friend. He pushed himself off of the table and slunk back to the bowels of his tent like the haunt he was. Far away from the door he would hide, protected by eons of hoarding and a deadly accumulation of stacked curses waiting to be triggered. The people of the isle could go on without him for awhile; he doubted they all truly believed in his magic as much as he did in that moment.

He closed his eyes, falling back into the black hole of thoughts and stripped once again to the whims of the universe. It took time to settle back out of his mood to listen to the whispers, but he was nothing if not patient; Djimmi had an eternity to look forward to...and that was a reality that pained him greatly whenever he set eyes on the object of his desire.

But, hard as it was, he listened. He listened to the muffled world outside, but beyond that he peeled apart the tension to his senses to really, truly listen. He heard the whispers coming from the tomes and cards, determined to tell their contrasting words to prove him wrong. He allowed the trickling tongues of the cosmos seep into the calm nothingness in his conscious mind. Like twisting snakes he heard sounds and words of forgotten languages in ancient times and future dawns. His skin prickled as a light behind his eyelids crackled to life in the depths of his psyche, taking on blinding and brilliant shapes as dimensions twisted and bled out their secrets in sharp tones from distances that felt so far away. In a state like this, Djimmi could utterly tune out the mortal world for days on end. Food and sleep were indulgences to him, not mandated.

He hadn’t noticed the wet heat to his eyes until a touch unlike anything in his trance had pressed itself in the center of his chest. If he had a mortal heart, Djimmi would have felt the sensation akin to someone attempting to remove it. Perhaps it was symbolism for his sins. But still it lingered, like an ice cube splashing through the surface of hot tea and spilling its icy tendrils anywhere they can reach. The effect was truly chilling; it was sharp enough to jolt him right out of his trance.

The genie instinctively spasmed, throwing his arms up much akin to a startled bear awoken from his slumber. For a moment, he honest to Ra thought he was crumbling even more to the pits of his despair, for now he was seeing hallucinations of his downfall.

Beppi remained frozen in place despite his wince, keeping his hand splayed across the genie’s chest as they stared at each other in frightened silence. This had to have been a dream- Bon Bon had just been here naught but ten minutes prior…

Hadn’t she?

It had been a clear sunny morning when she stepped foot into his tent, and Djimmi leaned just enough to the left in order to peer through the mounds of treasures to see silver twilight spilling in from the entrance flap that had been lifted partially by a strong breeze. Stupidly, he blinked. Then, he blinked again down to the clown.

Beppi had his tongue trapped between his teeth, not at all thrilled that he had been caught. Slowly, he peeled his hand away from the genie’s chest and sat crosslegged before him. Djimmi looked at him as if he had just been knocked out of a vivid dream so crisp that he swore it was still happening. His large hand slowly reached out, fearful of banishing the illusion by touching the clown’s white cheek but willed by hope. The groan he made when the touch was real was the sound of his own twenty year battle in fearing that he would lose his darling friend for good.

It took much not to weep right then and there when Beppi leaned his face into the seat of his palm like a nuzzling kitten.

Even if it was real, the whole encounter still felt surreal.It felt like a joke that at any moment would be sprung on him and he’d find the mad jester cackling out into the night. Beppi loved jokes, but this time he refused to tell any. He frowned up at his best friend, colorful brows hanging heavily in his face. A long squeak of a whine wrung out of his lungs while he rubbed his face some more as if hoping to smear away the shame into the genie’s hand. He mumbled softly that he was sorry...he was so sorry for everything and for not coming sooner.

For a clown who possessed unnatural rubbery abilities, it wasn’t surprising to think Beppi was starting to deflate right then and there from the way he was beginning to slump. Djimmi sat there, dumbfounded by his apology. Their falling out refused to still be anything but fresh in their minds and it fought at his emotions even more desperately as he remembered. However, something was off about the clown. The seriousness was very...Red. It bothered Djimmi more than the fact that his longtime crush and the reason for envy towards Bon Bon was now sitting right in front of him in the present moment.

The universe truly was chuckling at his expense right now. 

Something seemed off despite it all. The clown had never taken such a fancy to acting this way, not in all their years together. They had hugged, high fived and even done a bit of rough housing from time to time, but never something so...affectionate. Friends didn’t commit to petting each other while under platonic terms. Perplexed, Djimmi slowly started to pull his hand away. He was stunned to see Beppi beginning to paw after it. 

The clown stretched his white gloved hands out like the toes of a lazy cat, beginning to harmlessly claw themselves into the magician’s vest while he pulled himself up. For a terrifying minute, Djimmi honest to goodness thought that Beppi was going to sit upon him in a way that was very beyond innocence...and he hated himself even more for realizing that he would have no problems with it. Mercifully, the smaller male instead leaned his weight off to one side, settling right onto a firm thigh and against the big meaty arm that instinctively flew in to catch him. Tucking his legs and arms in, he truly did personify a little cat right now as he looked up to meet the startled magician’s eyes.

Beppi had never done this either...and Djimmi had witnessed many a bizarre stunt from the mad showman. Afraid to make any wrong moves, he instead remained frozen while debating with himself if this was all still a dream and he had simply fallen to the deepest levels of convincing absurdity with it. The heat and weight pooling against his biceps and thigh were unmistakably real.

The clown seemed to be testing him with this bizarre behavior, laying perfectly still while keeping his wild golden eyes glued upon the genie’s. Djimmi watched, stunned. Eventually, his curiosity overwhelmed him to the point of employing his titanic ancient strength. Effortlessly, he lifted the clown up with one flex of his arm, holding him on his back as Beppi grinned up at him. It was a reminder of their size differences in how large Djimmi could truly be if he so wished.

Quietly, he shrunk himself just enough to force the clown out of the crook and back onto the carpet before them. They looked at each other as equals this time, while Djimmi was the first to open both arms in a hug. At his mortal size he couldn’t hold the clown like a baby, but he certainly still gave the best bear hugs.

And hug they did. Beppi grinned and pounced right into the inviting grip, rubbing his cheek against a warm crimson chest while he wiggled his body and kicked his legs gleefully as Djimmi worked to contain him. It was a wonderful hug, full of love and comfort the genie had greatly missed sharing with his good friend.

“I am sorry,” He eventually rumbled, forgetting his strength as his emotions bled into it. A strained honk alerted him to loosen up a bit but it was the first time in years that Beppi desired to be within his arms for longer than a few minutes. It easily breached the limit to how long a friendly hug should last for, prickling the hot nerves along the ancient’s neck when he felt smaller fingers distractedly kneading into his flesh. It was the grip of the vulnerable. If anything, it fanned his protective side even hotter.

He chanted those three words like a broken record, rocking with his beloved kept so wonderfully close to him. If he had his way, he’d spoil Beppi until the day he died and then would find the perfect spell to raise his ghost. He’d continue to be there to chase away all of the scary things that interrupted Beppi’s play time and he’d spoil him with his favorite foods and he’d tell all of his favorite stories while granting every wish (within reason) that the jester could ever ask for if he for once wasn’t stubborn enough to push that generosity away...Djimmi’s frazzled thoughts slowed and his hold tightened upon feeling a small cheek nuzzling his own once Beppi managed to push himself up high enough.

This wasn’t a friend’s embrace anymore. Be it from whatever witchcraft on Bon Bon’s part to perhaps Beppi’s own long buried inhibitions, the clown was becoming less subtle in how he was enjoying their makeup time. He seemed so lulled from the coziness and the rocking that he almost came off as falling asleep. When Djimmi peeled him back to grip him by the shoulders, Beppi looked at him with a dreamy smile that shot icy heat directly from Djimmi’s chest to other parts of his body he wasn’t privy to expressing. Something intense started to whisper and cloud his mind until the idea became so suffocating that it overruled his own inhibitions.

Bon Bon would kill him if she saw, surely. There would be no doubt in Djimmi’s logic. What amped up the blind adrenaline within him was that Beppi didn’t at all shy away when the genie started to lean in. It terrified him more in his own boldness when the clown started to do the same. 

This had to have been a dream. It just had to.

But dreams don’t have one’s crush turning their heads at the last moment. That’s when they ended and stark reality reared its ugly face once again.

His lips pressed against the clown’s own red cheek, a decision that kept him there when he felt smaller hands scrambling up to grip at his collar. It wasn’t a frantic shove away but a grip which tightened the more firmly he lingered. When Djimmi pulled back, he was baffled at the strange feeling of pressure squeezing at his lungs: it had been far too long since he remembered what feeling breathlessness was like. Beppi smiled at him, shy but determined, eyes full of apology.

His heart was still set on Bon Bon, that was now painfully obvious. But it didn’t make sense for him to allow this to happen. Friends don’t allow friends to kiss friends! This was all confusing to Djimmi. He couldn’t decide whether the shame he felt stemmed from what he just did or that he mournfully had been deciding on releasing the clown and scaring him out of his tent forever. Beppi deserved a better life than this. His being wasn’t a custody battle. 

Everything hurt. He wanted nothing more than to do the deed for real, right here and now while damning the world around him. The cycle of reality versus fantasy was so painful when it mixed with honor and decency.

Beppi chose for him. He kept his grip on the genie’s vest as he remained clutched by the shoulders. A light tug along the collar was enough of a test for him; Djimmi cautiously leaned in.

Djimmi’s threatened to cry again when the gesture was returned to his own cheek. The sensation lingered like a sizzling burn, serving as a reminder of the hopes he still had atop of the taboo nature of the situation. He stared at Beppi like a man possessed, unsure of what was the right thing to think. The clown was almost dangling in his grip at this point, having fun with tucking his legs up to make a swinging game out of it. The innocence of it all spoke volumes of any maliciousness behind his intentions...there weren’t any.

He was lowered back onto the floor. Beppi resumed his crosslegged sit and was more than giggly about leaning in to accept another experimental kiss upon his head. Djimmi was still regarding him with a strange curiosity. It made the clown play with his hands.

Beppi supposed he could explain himself.

“What do you call a bunch of birds who all like each other?” He twiddled his thumbs while sheepishly looking away.

Lulled by familiar habits, Djimmi placed a hand upon his knee while he stroked his chin.

“Hm?”

The clown wheezed, nodding his head while he puffed up his cheeks as his restlessness threatened to burst out of him. He exhaled.

“Tw...tweethearts…”

He kept his gaze averted while the genie stared at him. Beppi bit his lip again while the beginnings of a heavy sigh escaped him. It wasn’t out of exasperation, but rather his own inability to keep his other loved ones close. Djimmi still meant the world to him. The big guy had been nothing but a light in his darkness for the longest time. When Bon Bon had pulled Beppi aside earlier that day, she made it clear that the poor bastard currently sitting in front of him deserved to get an apology and treated with the same love and respect she had been given. Beppi’s heart would always beat for her, but perhaps he had been a little clueless for the longest time on just how deeply Djimmi’s adoration and dedication ran. It was only fair to, within reason, to give a little of that love back. As Beppi timidly glanced up, he hoped that the genie would understand the limitations to what he could offer in return, loving as it all was. He swallowed heavily and presented his cheek back to his closest companion.

To his great relief, Djimmi undoubtedly agreed to the silent terms the moment he felt that magical kiss pressing itself back against his cheek, hard enough that he squealed with uproarious laughter when a raspberry was splattered right against it.

They spent the rest of the evening together, embracing and snuggling while Djimmi told every story that Beppi desired. There was laughter, there was tickling and monster noises, but there was an unspoken understanding- no kisses beyond the cheeks, and no questionable contact. It wasn’t the pristine map of desires that Djimmi had long wanted to seek out, but considering the circumstances...as he watched Beppi laughing within his arms, looking up at him with pure joy and comfort in his hold, seeking out the tease of his raspberries and scrunching up under the power of those cheek kisses...the old sage figured he could at least give this a try. It was better than losing Beppi altogether.

As he kissed the clown right next to the spot where his little hat rest, Djimmi came to terms that it wasn't so bad, not being able to go traditional. Watching Beppi wiggle against him while being peppered by kisses all over his cute face stirred some cozy bliss back into the old magician's core. He found himself smiling again as he dotingly rocked the clown to sleep after the first yawn betrayed him. This felt right. He felt the voids of his universe beginning to stitch up and fade away under the warmth of his lucky stars.

He was rather excited to give this another try once Beppi was awake again.

It would be worth it, if it meant feeling those noodly arms wrapped around him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unlike my other Magic Carnival stories, this one does not have Djimmi and Beppi dating. They are just VERY close friends where Djimmi can be a little kissy and snuggly if he wants. This was just my way of finally giving Djimmi some happiness again in this story.
> 
>  
> 
> As always, check out my blog for occasional writing exercises, dork posts by me or if you have any requests or questions!
> 
> socks-on-parade.tumblr.com


End file.
